HUMANITY 


THE     CITY. 


HUMANITY  IN  THE  CITY 


BY    THE 


EEY.    E.   -if. 


NEW    YORK: 

DE    WITT    &    DAVENPORT,    PUBLISHERS, 

160    &    162    NASSAU    STREET. 

BOSTON: 
ABEL   TOMPKINS,   38   &   40   CORNHILL. 


ENTERED  according  to  AetW  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

D  E    WITT    &    DAVENPORT, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  U.  S.  Diatrict  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York 


G.   VV.  ALEXANDER, 

B  1  N  D  Ji  B  , 

9  Sprr.co  Street. 


VV.  H.  TINSON. 

24  Beelcman  Street. 


TA\VS,    RUSSELL   &    CO. 
.iVo.  26  Beekman  Street. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  STREET       .  .13 

II.  MAN  AND  MACHINERY          .         .  .39 

III.  THE  STRIFE  FOR  PRECEDENCE       .  .     65 

IY.  THE  SYMBOLS  OF  THE  REPUBLIC  .  .93 

V.  THE  SPRINGS  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE      .  .  123 

VI.  THE  ALLIES  OF  THE  TEMPTER       .  .151 

VII.  THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR        .  .181 

VIII.  THE  HELP  OF  RELIGION  .  223 


PREFACE. 


A  VOLUME  like  the  present  hardly  requires 
the  formality  of  a  preface.  It  is  the  con 
tinuation  of  a  series  already  published,  and, 
like  that,  aims  at  applying  the  highest 
standard  of  Morality  and  Religion  to  the 
phases  of  every-day  life.  In  order,  however, 
that  the  view  with  which  these  discourses 
have  been  prepared  may  not  be  misconceived, 
I  wish  merely  to  say  that  I  am  far  from  sup 
posing  that  these  are  the  only  themes  to  be 
preached,  or  that  they  constitute  the  highest 
class  of  practical  subjects,  and  shall  be  sorry 


X  P  K  E  F  A  C  E  . 

if  in  any  way  they  seem  to  imply  a  neglect  of 
that  interior  and  holy  life  which  is  the  spring 
not  only  of  right  affections,  but  of  clear  per 
ception  and  sturdy,  every-day  duty.  I  hope, 
on  the  contrary,  that  the  very  aspects  of  this 
busy  city  life — the  very  problems  which  start 
out  of  it — will  tend  to  convince  men  of  the 
necessity  of  this  inward  and  regenerating 
principle.  Nevertheless,  I  maintain  that  these 
topics  have  a  place  in  the  circle  of  the  preach 
er's  work,  and  he  need  entertain  no  fear  of 
desecrating  his  pulpit  by  secular  themes, 
who  seeks  to  consecrate  all  things  in  any  way 
involving  the  action  and  the  welfare  of  men, 
by  the  spirit  and  aims  of  His  [Religion  who, 
while  he  preached  the  Gospel,  likewise  fed  the 
hungry,  healed  the  sick,  and  touched  the  issues 
of  every  temporal  want.  I  may  have  failed  in 
the  method,  I  trust  I  have  not  in  the  purpose. 

E.  H.  C. 

New  York,  May,  1854. 


THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  STREET. 


HUMANITY  IN  THE   CITY. 


DISCOURSE    I. 

THE  LESSONS  OF  THE  STREET. 

Wisdom  crieth  without ;  she  uttcreth  her  voice  in  the 
streets. — PROYERBS,  i.  20. 

THE  great  truths  of  religion  may  be  commu 
nicated  to  the  mind  and  the  heart  in  two  ways 
— by  abstract  treatment,  and  by  illustration. 
It  must  be  taken  up  in  its  absolute  connection 
with  God,  and  with  our  own  souls.  In  solitary 
meditation,  in  self-examination,  and  in  prayer, 
we  shall  learn  the  intrinsic  claims  which  Faith 
and  Duty  have  upon  reason  and  conscience. 
But  we  cannot  proceed  far  before  we  discover 
the  necessity  of  some  symbol,  by  which  these 
abstract  principles  may  be  made  distinct  to 


14  II  V  M  A  N  I  T  Y      IN     T  H  K      0  I  T  Y  . 


us.  And,  looking  around  for  this  purpose,  we 
find  that  all  the  phases  of  existence  are  full  of 
spiritual  illustration — full  of  religious  sugges 
tion  and  argument.  Thus  our  Saviour  pro 
nounced  his  great  doctrines  of  Eternal  Life, 
and  of  Personal  Religion,  and  then  turned  to 
the  world  for  a  commentary.  Under  his  teach 
ing  nature  became  an  illuminated  missal,  let 
tered  by  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  pencilled 
with  hues  that  played  through  the  leaves  of 
Olivet.  The  wild  birds,  in  their  flight,  bore 
upward  the  beautiful  lesson  of  Providence,  and 
the  significance  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
was  contained  in  a  mustard-seed.  By  no  ab 
struse  reasoning  did  he  make  his  instructions 
so  vivid  to  his  disciples,  and  so  fresh  to  our 
selves.  But  he  awoke  the  conviction  of  moral 
need,  and  repentance,  and  Divine  Love,  by 
drawing  from  instances  with  which  they  had 
been  familiar  all  their  lives — the  procedures 
of  government,  the  transactions  of  business, 
the  labors  of  the  husbandman,  and  the  inci 
dents  of  home.  And  the  result  is  essentially 
the  same,  whether  we  start  with  the  religious 
truth  to  find  some  illustration  in  the  world 


THE   LESSONS    OF    THE    STREET.  15 


around  us,  or  from  some  aspect  of  human  life, 
or  nature,  extract  a  religious  truth.  ISTor  need 
this  always  be  sharply  obvious.  It  is  only 
necessary  that  our  point  of  view  be  sufficiently 
elevated  to  throw  a  spiritual  light  upon  things, 
and  to  reveal  their  moral  relations ;  for,  often, 
our  understandings  are  cleared,  and  our  hearts 
made  better,  by  the  mere  scope  and  tendency 
of  such  observations. 

With  this  conviction,  I  called  your  attention, 
last  winter,  to  some  of  the  "  Aspects  of  City 
Life,"  and  with  the  same  view,  I  wish  now  to 
address  you,  for  a  few  Sunday  evenings,  on 
the  Conditions  of  Humanity  in  the  City,  in 
which  series  I  shall  endeavor  not  only  to  pre 
sent  new  topics  of  interest,  but  to  urge  more 
explicitly  some  points,  which,  in  the  afore-men 
tioned  discourses,  I  merely  touched  upon. 

The  essential  meaning  of  the  personification 
in  the  text  is  in  accordance,  I  think,  with  the 
general  tenor  of  remark  which  I  have  just  been 
making.  For  I  understand  it  to  mean,  that 
everything  is  instructive,  that  even  in  the 
common  ways  of  life  the  most  important 
truths,  and  the  profoundest  moral  and  reli- 


16        HUMANITY    IN    TIIK    CITY. 


gicms  significance,  are  contained.  And  the 
words  before  us,  also,  specifically  indicate  the 
subject  upon  which  I  wish  to  speak  this  even 
ing,  for  they  declare  that  "Wisdom uttereth 

her  voice  in  the  streets." 

The  street  through  which  you  walk  every 
day  ;  with  whose  sights  and  sounds  you  have 
been  familiar,  perhaps,  all  your  lives  ;  is  it  all 
so  common-place  that  it  yields  you  no  deep 
lessons, — deep  and  fresh,  it  may  be,  if  you 
would  only  look  around  with  discerning  eyes? 
Engaged  with  your  own  special  interests,  and 
busy  with  monotonous  details,  you  may  not 
heed  it ;  and  yet  there  is  something  finer  than 
the  grandest  poetry,  even  in  the  mere  spectacle 
of  these  multitudinous  billows  of  life,  rolling 
down  the  long,  broad,  avenue.  It  is  an  inspir 
ing  lyric,  this  inexhaustible  procession,  in  the 
misty  perspective  ever  lost,  ever  renewed, 
sweeping  onward  between  its  architectural 
banks  to  the  music  of  innumerable  wheels ; 
the  rainbow  colors,  the  silks,  the  velvets,  the 
jewels,  the  tatters,  the  plumes,  the  faces — no 
two  alike — shooting  out  from  unknown  depths, 
and  passing  away  for  ever — perpetually  sweep- 


THE    LESSONS    OF   THE    STREET.  17 


ing  onward  in  the  fresh  air  of  morning,  under 
the  glare  of  noon,  under  the  fading,  nickering 
light,  until  the  shadow  climbs  the  tallest  spire, 
and  night  comes  with  revelations  and  mysteries 
of  its  own. 

And  yet  this  changeful  tide  of  activity  is  no 
mere  lyric.  It  is  an  epic,  rather,  unfolding  in 
its  progress  the  contrasts,  the  conflicts,  the 
heroisms,  the  failures, — in  one  word,  the  great 
and  solemn  issues  of  human  life.  And  a  few 
comprehensive  lessons  from  that  ""Wisdom 
which  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets,"  may 
prove  a  fitting  introduction,  from  which  we 
can  pass  to  consider  more  specific  conditions 
of  humanity  in  the  city. 

Taking  up  the  subject  in  this  light,  I  observe 
that  the  first  lesson  of  the  street  is  in  the  illus 
tration  which  it  affords  us  of  the  diversities  of 
human  conditions.  The  most  superficial  eye 
recognizes  this.  A  city  is,  in  one  respect,  like 
a  high  mountain ;  the  latter  is  an  epitome  of 
the  physical  globe ;  for  its  sides  are  belted  by 
products  of  every  zone,  from  the  tropical  luxu 
riance  that  clusters  around  its  base,  to  its 
arctic  summit  far  up  in  the  sky.  So  is  the 


18        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


city  an  epitome  of  the  social  world.  All  the 
belts  of  civilization  intersect  along  its  avenues. 
It  contains  the  products  of  every  moral  zone. 
It  is  cosmopolitan,  not  only  in  a  national,  but 
in  a  spiritual,  sense.  Here  you  may  find  not 
only  the  finest  Saxon  culture,  but  the  grossest 
barbaric  degradation.  There  you  pass  a  form 
of  Caucasian  development,  the  fine-cut  fea 
tures,  the  imperial  forehead,  the  intelligent 
eye,  the  confident  tread,  the  true  port  and 
stature  of  a  man.  But  who  is  this  that  follows 
in  his  track;  under  the  same  national  sky, 
surrounded  by  the  same  institutions,  and  yet 
with  those  pinched  features,  that  stunted  form, 
that  villainous  look ;  is  it  Papuan,  Bushman, 
or  Carib  ?  Fitly  representing  either  of  these, 
though  born  in  a  Christian  city,  and  bearing 
about  not  only  the  stamp  of  violated  physical 
law,  but  of  moral  neglect  and  baseness.  And 
no  one  needs  to  be  told  that  there  are  savages 
in  New  York,  as  well  as  in  the  islands  of  the 
sea.  Savages,  not  in  gloomy  forests,  but  under 
the  strength  of  gas-light,  and  the  eyes  of  police 
men  ;  with  war-whoops  and  clubs  very  much 
the  same,  and  garments  as  fantastic^  and  souls 


THE   LESSONS   OF   THE    STREET.  19 


as  brutal,  as  any  of  their  kindred  at  the  anti 
podes.  China,  India,  Africa,  will  you  not 
find  their  features  in  some  circles  of  the  social 
world  right  around  you  ?  Idolatry !  you  can 
not  find  any  more  gross,  any  more  cruel,  on 
the  broad  earth,  than  within  the  area  of  a  mile 
around  this  pulpit.  Dark  minds  from  which 
God  is  obscured;  deluded  souls,  whose  fetish 
is  the  dice-box  or  the  bottle ;  apathetic  spirits, 
steeped  in  sensual  abomination,  unmoved  by  a 
moral  ripple,  soaking  in  the  slump  of  animal 
vitality.  False  gods,  more  hideous,  more  aw 
ful,  than  Moloch  or  Baal;  worshipped  with 
shrieks,  worshipped  with  curses,  with  the 
hearth-stone  for  the  bloody  altar,  and  the 
drunken  husband  for  the  immolating  priest, 
and  women  and  children  for  the  victims.  I 
have  no  terms  of  respect  too  high  for  the  brave 
and  conscientious  men  who  carry  the  gospel, 
and  their  own  lives,  in  their  hands  to  distant 
shores.  But,  surely,  they  need  not  go  thus  far 
to  seek  for  the  benighted  and  the  debased. 
They  may  find  there  a  wider  extent  of  hea 
thenism,  but  none  more  intense  than  that 
which  prevails  close  by  the  school  and  the 


20        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


church.  The  richest  products  of  modern  pro 
gress  and  Christian  culture  grow  on  the  verge 
of  barren  wastes,  and  jungles  of  violence,  and 
"  the  region  of  the  shadow  of  death." 

In  the  street,  however,  not  only  do  we 
behold  these  different  degrees  of  civilization, 
but  those  problems  of  diversity,  which  the 
highest  form  of  existing  civilization  develop es 
— the  diversities  of  extreme  poverty,  and 
extreme  wealth,  for  instance.  Here  sits  the 
beggar,  sick  and  pinched  with  cold ;  and  there 
goes  a  man  of  no  better  flesh  and  blood,  and 
no  more  authentic  charter  of  soul,  wrapped 
in  comfort,  and  actually  bloated  with  luxury. 
There  issues  the  whine  of  distress,  beside  the 
glittering  carriage-wheels.  There,  amidst  the 
rush  of  gaiety ;  the  busy,  selfish  whirl ;  half 
naked,  shivering,  with  her  bare  feet  on  the  icy 
pavement,  stands  the  little  girl,  with  the 
shadow  of  an  experience  upon  her  that  has 
made  her  preternaturally  old,  and  it  may  be, 
driven  the  angel  from  her  face.  Still,  we 
cannot  believe  that  above  that  wintry  heaven 
which  stretches  over  her,  there  is  less  regard 
for  the  poor,  neglected  child,  than  for  that 


THE    LESSONS   OF   THE    STREET.  21 


rosy  belt  of  infant  happiness  which  girdles  and 
gladdens  ten  thousand  hearths. 

And  here,  too,  through  the  brilliant  street,  " 
and  the  broad  light  of  day,  walks  Purity, 
enshrined  in  the  loveliest  form  of  womanhood. 
And  along  that  same  street  by  night,  attended 
by  fitting  shadows,  strolls  womanhood 
discrowned,  clothed  with  painted  shame,  yet, 
even  in  the  springs  of  that  guilty  heart  not 
utterly  quenched.  We  render  just  homage  to 
the  one,  we  pour  scorn  upon  the  other ;  but, 
could  we  trace  back  the  lines  of  circumstance, 
and  inquire  why  the  one  stands  guarded  with 
such  sweet  respect,  and  why  the  other  has 
fallen,  we  might  raise  problems  with  which  wre 
cannot  tax  Providence,  which  wre  may  not  lay 
altogether  to  the  charge  of  the  condemned,  but 
for  which  wre  might  challenge  an  answer  from  ,- 
society. 

And,  if  we  would  ascertain  the  practical 
purport  of  this  lesson  of  human  diversity 
which  is  so  conspicuous  in  the  street — the 
meaning  of  these  sharp  contrasts  of  refinement 
and  grossness,  intelligence  and  ignorance,  re 
spectability  and  guilt — 'We  only  ask  a  question 


22        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


that  thousands  have  asked  before  us.  And  yet, 
it  is  possible  to  surmise  the  purpose  of  these 
diversities.  We  know,  for  one  thing,  that  out 
v  of  them  come  some  of  the  noblest  instances 
of  character  and  of  achievement.  Ignorance 
and  crime  and  poverty  and  vice,  stand  in  fear 
ful  contrast  to  knowledge  and  integrity  and 
wealth  and  purity ;  but  they  likewise  consti 
tute  the  dark  background  against  which  the 
virtues  of  human  life  stand  out  in  radiant  re 
lief  ;  virtues  developed  by  the  struggle  which 
they  create;  virtues  which  seem  impossible 
without  their  co-existence.  For,  whence  issues 
any  such  thing  as  virtue,  except  out  of  the 
temptation  and  antagonism  of  vice  ?  How 
could  Charity  ever  have  appeared  in  the  world, 
were  there  no  dark  ways  to  be  trodden  by  its 
bright  feet,  and  no  suffering  and  sadness  to  re 
quire  its  aid  ?  I  look  at  these  asylums,  these 
hospitals,  these  ragged  schools — a  zodiac  of 
beautiful  charities,  girdling  all  this  selfishness 
and  sin — I  look  at  these  monuments  which 
humanity  will  honor  when  war  shall  be  but  a 
legend,  and  laurels  have  withered  to  dust ;  and 
when  I  think  what  they  have  grown  out  of, 


THE   LESSONS   OF   THE    STREET.  23 


and  why  they  stand  here,  I  regard  them  as  so 
many  sublime  way-marks  by  which  Providence 
unfolds  its  purposes  among  men,  and  by  which 
men  trace  out  the  plan  of  God. 

And  then,  again,  perhaps  this  problem  of 
human  diversity  presses  heaviest  where  civili 
zation  is  the  most  advanced,  in  order  that  men 
may  be  more  sharply  aroused  to  seek  some 
practical  solution.  It  is  an  encouraging  sign 
when  an  evil  begins  to  be  intensely  felt,  and 
the  demand  for  relief  becomes  desperate.  The 
civilization  of  our  time  is  imperfect ;  involves 
many  incongruities ;  perhaps  creates  some 
evils  ;  but  that  it  is  an  improved  civilization, 
is  evinced  by  the  fact  that  it  is  self-conseious  / 
for  perception  is  the  necessary  antecedent  of 
endeavor  and  success.  The  contrasts  of  human 
condition,  then,  that  unfold  themselves  in  the 
crowded  street,  may  teach  us  our  duty  and 
our  responsibility  in  lessening  social  inequality 
and  need. 

But  a  solution  of  this  problem,  clearer  per 
haps  than  any  other,  appears  when  we  consider 
another  lesson  of  the  street ;  a  lesson  which 
requires  us  to  look  a  little  deeper,  but  which, 


24:        HUMANITY    IN   THE    CITY. 


when  we  do  look,  is  no  less  evident  than  these 
diversities.  That  lesson  unfolds  the  essential 
unity  of  humanity.  For,  we  find  that  the 
differences  between  men  are  formal  rather 
than  real  /  that,  with  various  outward  condi 
tions,  they  pass  through  the  same  great  trials ; 
and  that  the  scales  which  seem  to  hang  uneven 
at  the  surface,  and  to  be  tipped  this  way  and 
that  by  the  currents  of  worldly  fortune,  are 
very  nearly  balanced  in  the  depths  of  the  in 
ner  life.  We  are  shallow  judges  of  the  happi 
ness  or  the  misery  of  others,  if  we  estimate  it 
by  any  marks  that  distinguish  them  from  our 
selves  ;  if,  for  instance,  we  say  that  because 
they  have  more  money  they  are  happier,  or 
because  they  live  more  meagrely  they  are 
more  wretched.  For,  men  are  allied  by  much 
more  than  they  differ.  The  rich  man,  rolling 
by  in  his  chariot,  and  the  beggar,  shivering  in 
his  rags,  are  allied  by  much  more  than  they 
differ.  It  is  safer,  therefore,  to  estimate  our 
neighbor's  real  condition  by  what  we  find  in 
our  own  lot,  than  by  what  we  do  not  find  there. 
And  now,  see  into  what  an  essential  unity  this 
criterion  draws  the  jostling,  divergent  masses 


THE   LESSONS   OF   THE    STREET.  25 


in  yonder  street !     Each  man  there,  like  all 
the  rest,  linds  life  to  be  a  discipline.     Each 
has  his  separate  form  of  discipline  ;  but  it  bears 
upon  the  kindred  spirit  that  is  in  every  one  of 
us,  and  strikes  upon  motives,  sympathies,  facul 
ties,  that  run  through  the  common  humanity. 
Surely,  you  will  not  calculate  any  essential  : 
difference  from  mere  appearances  ;  for  the  light  * 
laughter  that  bubbles  on  the  lip  often  mantles 
over  brackish  depths  of  sadness,  and  the  seri 
ous  look  may  be  the  sober  veil  that  covers  a 
divine  peace.     You  know  that  the  bosom  can 
ache  beneath  diamond  brooches,  and  how  many 
blithe  hearts  dance  under  coarse  wool.     But  I 
do  not  allude  merely  to  these  accidental  con 
trasts.     I  mean  that  about  equal  measures  of 
trial,  equal  measures  of  what  men  call  good 
and  evil,  are  allotted  to  all ;  enough,  at  least, 
to  prove  the  identity  of  our  humanity,  and  to 
show  that  we  are  all  subjects  of  the  same  great 
plan.     You  say  that  the  poor  man  who  passes      .      - 
yonder,  carrying  his  burden,  has  a  hard  lot  of 
it,  and  it  may  be  he  has ;  but  the  rich  man 
who  brushes  by  him  has  a  hard  lot  of  it  too — • 
just  as  hard  for  him,  just  as  well  fitted  to  dis- 

9 


26        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


cipline  him  for  the  great  ends  of  life.  He  has 
his  money  to  take  care  of ;  a  pleasant  occupa 
tion,  you  may  think  ;  but,  after  all,  an  occupa 
tion,  with  all  the  strain  and  anxiety  of  labor, 
making  more  hard  work  for  him,  day  and  night, 
perhaps,  than  his  neighbor  has  who  digs 
ditches  or  thumps  a  lapstone.  And  it  is  quite 
likely  that  he  feels  poorer  than  the  poor  man, 
and,  if  he  ever  becomes  self-conscious,  has 
great  reason  to  feel  meaner.  And  then,  he  has 
his  rivalries,  his  competitions,  his  troubles  of 
caste  and  etiquette,  so  that  the  merchant,  in 
his  sumptuous  apartments,  comes  to  the  same 
essential  point,  "  sweats,  and  bears  fardels,"  as 
well  as  his  brother  in  the  garret ;  tosses  on  his 
bed  with  surfeit,  or  perplexity,  while  the  other 
is  wrapped  in  peaceful  slumber  ;  and,  if  he  is 
one  who  recognizes  the  moral  ends  of  life,  finds 
himself  called  upon  to  contend  with  his  own 
heart,  and  to  fight  with  peculiar  temptations. 
And  thus  the  rich  man  and  the  poor  man,  who 
seem  so  unequal  in  the  street,  would  find  but  a 
thin  partition  between  them,  could  they,  as 
they  might,  detect  one  another  kneeling  on 
the  same  platform  of  spiritual  endeavor,  and 


THE    LESSONS    OF   THE    STREET.  27 


sending  up  the  same  prayers  to  the  same  eter 
nal  throne. 

But,  say  you,  '  here  is  one  who  is  returning 
to  a  home  of  destitution,  of  misery  ;  where  the 
light  of  the  natural  day  is  almost  shut  out,  but 
in  which  brood  the  deeper  shadows  of  despair." 
And  yet,  in  many  a  splendid  mansion  you  will 
find  a  more  fearful  destitution,  a  dearth  of 
affections,  killed  by  envy,  jealousy,  distrust; 
stifled  by  glittering  formalities;  a  brood  of 
evil  passions  that  mock  the  splendor,  and 
darken  the  magnificent  walls.  The  measure 
of  joy,  too,  is  distributed  with  the  same  impar 
tiality  as  the  measure  of  woe.  The  child's 
grief  throbs  against  the  round  of  its  little  heart 
as  heavily  as  the  man's  sorrow ;  and  the  one 
finds  as  much  delight  in  his  kite  or  drum,  as 
the  other  in  striking  the  springs  of  enterprise 
or  soaring  on  the  wings  of  fame.  After  all, 
happiness  is  the  rule,  not  the  exception,  even 
in  the  hearts  that  beat  in  the  crowded  city; 
and  its  great  elements  are  as  common  as  the  • 
air,  and  the  sunshine,  and  free  movement,  and 
good  health.  And  what  the  fortunate  may 
seem  to  gain  in  variety  of  methods,  may  only 


28         H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      IN     THE      C  I  T  Y  . 


be  unconscious  devices  to  simulate  or  recover 
that  natural  relish  which  others  have  never 
lost.  And  no  one  doubts  that  the  great  dis 
pensations  of  life,  the  events  that  make  epochs 
in  our  fleeting  years,  cleave  through  all  the 
strata  of  outward  difference,  and  lay  bare  the 
core  of  our  one  humanity.  Sickness  !  does 
it  not  make  Dives  look  very  much  like  Lazarus, 
and  show  our  common  weakness,  and  reveal 
the  common  marvel  of  this  "  harp  of  thousand 
strings?"  And  sorrow!  it  veils  all  faces,  and 
bows  all  forms  alike,  and  sends  the  same  shud 
der  through  the  frame,  and  casts  the  same 
darkness  upon  the  walls,  and  peals  forth  in  the 
same  dirge  of  maternal  agony  by  the  dead 
boy's  cradle  in  the  sumptuous  chamber,  and 
the  baby's  last  sleep  on-  its  bed  of  straw. 
And  Death  !  how  wonderfully  it  makes  them 
all  alike  who  in  the  street  wore  such  various 
garments,  and  had  such  distinct  aims,  and 
were  whirled  apart  in  such  different  orbits  ! 
Ah !  our  essential  humanity  comes  out  in  those 
composed  forms  and  still  features.  Those  di 
vergent  currents  have  carried  them  out  upon 
the  same  placid  sea  at  last ;  and  the  same 


THE    LESSONS    OF    THE    STREET.   29 


solemn  light  streams  upon  the  clasped  hands 
and  the  uplifted  faces.  We  don't  mind  the 
drapery  so  much  then.  It  seems  a  very 
superficial  matter  beside  the  silent  and  star 
less  mystery  that  enfolds  them  all. 

In  what  I  have  thus  said  I  do  not  mean  to 
maintain  that  outward  conditions  are  nothing. 
I  think  they  are  a  great  deal ;  and  we  do  right  in 
striving  to  improve  them ;  in  escaping  the  evil, 
and  seeking  to  secure  the  good  that  pertains 
to  them.  But,  I  repeat,  when  we  come  to  the 
essential  humanity,  to  the  real  discipline  and 
substance  of  life,  we  find  the  same  great  fea 
tures  ;  and  so  this  lesson  of  the  street  may 
help  explain  the  problem  suggested  by  the 
other ;  may  reconcile  each  of  us  to  our  condi 
tion  in  the  crowd,  and  direct  our  attention  to 
substantial  results. 

But,  again,  the  street,  with  its  processions 
and  activities,  teaches  us  that  much  in  human 
life  is  merely  phenomenal,  merely  appears. 
We  enter  into  this  truth  by  a  very  common 
train  of  observation.  We  know  how  much  is 
put  on  purposely  for  the  public  gaze,  and  has 
no  other  intention  than  to  be  seen ;  how  hollow 


30       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


are  many  of  the  smiles,  and  gay  looks,  and 
smooth  decencies.  And  even  the  complexion  of 
some,  with  its  red  and  white,  is  more  unsub 
stantial  than  all  the  rest ;  for  it  is  in  danger  of 
being  washed  away  by  the  first  shower.  It  is 
strange  to  meet  people  whose  personal  signifi 
cance  in  life  is  that  of  a  shop  window  exhibit 
ing  lace  and  jewelry ;  strange  to  encounter 
men  in  whose  place  we  might  substitute  a 
well-dressed  effigy,  and  they  would  hardly  be 
missed.  Of  course  appearances  should  be 
attended  to,  and  are  good  in  their  place.  It 
is  right  that  we  should  honor  society  by  our 
best  looks  and  ways.  But  it  is  not  merely 
ridiculous,  it  is  sad,  to  think  how  much  in  the 
street,  where  humanity  exhibits  all  its  phases, 
is  appearance  and  but  little  else. 

But  dress  and  manners  are  not  all  that  is  phe 
nomenal  in  human  life.  These  men  and  women 
themselves,  this  streaming  crowd,  these  brick 
walls  and  stately  pinnacles,  those  that  pursue 
•  and  the  things  that  are  pursued,  are  only  ap 
pearances.  It  may  be  profitable  for  us  to 
stand  apart  from  this  multitude,  this  river  of 
living  forms,  and  think  in  how  short  a  time  it  all 


THE    LESSONS    OF    THE    S  T  B  E  E  T  .  31 


will  have  passed  away  ;  how  short  a  time  since, 
and  it  was  not !  A  little  while  ago,  and  this 
rich  and  populous  city  was  a  green  island,  and 
our  beautiful  bay  clasped  it  in  its  silver  arms 
like  an  emerald.  The  wilderness  stood  here, 
and  the  child  of  the  forest  thought  of  it  as  a 
prepared  abiding  place  for  himself  and  for  his 
people  for  ever.  The  red  man  has  gone  ;  the 
wild  woods  have  vanished ;  and  these  struc 
tures,  and  vehicles,  and  busy  crowds,  have 
come  into  their  places  magically,  like  the  new 
picture  in  a  dissolving  view.  But  are  these 
forms  of  life,  is  your  presence  here  or  mine, 
any  more  substantial  than  those  that  have 
sunk  away?  Nay,  all  this  splendid  civiliza 
tion,  what  is  it  but  a  sparkling  ripple  in  the 
calm  eternity  of  God?  Dwellings,  stores, 
banks,  churches,  streets,  and  the  restless  mul 
titudes,  are  but  forms  of  life, — as  it  were  a 
rack  of  cloud  drifting  across  the  mirror  of 
absolute  being.  That  which  seems  to  you 
substantial  is  only  spectral.  And  as  the  dress 
of  the  fop,  and  the  smile  of  the  coquette,  is 
merely  an  appearance ;  so  the  wealth  for 
which  men  strain  in  eager  chase,  and  the 


32       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


fabrics  which  pride  builds  up,  the  anvils  on 
which  labor  strikes  its  mighty  blows,  and  the 
body  to  which  so  much  is  devoted,  and  which 
absorbs  so  much  care,  are  but  appearances 
also.  While  that  which  may  seem  to  you  as 
a  shadow — the  spiritual  substratum  of  life,  the 
basis  of  those  spiritual  laws  which  run  through 
all  our  conditions — is  the  only  abiding  sub 
stance. 

If  we  only  look  in  this  light,  my  friends, 
upon  the  continuous  spectacle  of  human  move 
ment  and  human  change,  we  shall  find  that 

"  "Wisdom uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets." 

Old  as  the  thought  may  be,  in  the  rush  of  the 
great  crowd  it  will  come  to  us  fresh  and  im 
pressively,  that  all  this  is  but  a  form  of  spirit 
ual  and  eternal  being.  A  day  in  the  city  is 
like  life  itself.  Out  of  unconscious  slumber 
into  the  brilliant  morning  and  the  thick  activ 
ity  we  come.  But,  by-and-by,  the  heaving 
mass  breaks  into  units,  and  one  by  one  dissolves 
into  the  shadow  of  the  night.  Two  cities  grow 
up  side  by  side — the  city  in  which  men  appear, 
the  city  into  which  they  vanish  ;  the  city  whose 
houses  and  goods  they  possess  for  a  little  while 


T  IT  E    LESSONS    OF    T  n  E    8  T  K  E  E  T  .  33 

and  tlieii  leave  beliind  them,  and  the  city  whose 
white  monuments  just  show  us  the  pinnacles 
of  their  estates  in  the  eternal  world.  The 
busy,  diversified  crowd  that  rolls  through  the 
streets — it  is  only  an  appearance !  It  is  a 
ceaseless  march  of  emigration.  In  a  little 
while,  the  names  in  this  year's  Directory  may 
be  read  in  Greenwood. 

But  we  must  not  rest  with  this  as  the  final 
lesson  of  the  street.  It  is  only  the  form  of  Life 
that  is  transient  and  phenomenal ;  but  the  Life 
itself  is  here,  also — here,  in  these  flashing  eyes, 
and  heaving  breasts,  and  active  limbs.  These 
conditions,  however  transient,  involve  the  great 
interest  of  Humanity ;  and  that  lends  the  deep 
est  significance  to  these  conditions.  The  in 
terest  of  Humanity !  which  gives  importance 
to  all  it  touches,  and  transforms  nature  into 
history ;  which  imparts  dignity  to  the  rudest 
workshop,  and  the  most  barren  shore,  and 
the  humblest  grave — this  permits  us  to 
draw  no  mean  or  discouraging  conclusions 
from  the  achievements  and  the  changes  of  the 
multitudes  around  us.  It  may  do  for  the  skep 
tic,  who  sees  nothing  in  existence  but  these 
2* 


34:  II  LT  M  A  N  I  T  Y     I  N     T  II  E     C  I  T  Y  . 

forms  of  things;  who  sees  nothing  "but  the 
limited  phenomena  of  our  present  state,  and 
thinks  that  includes  all ;  it  may  do  for  him  to 
croak  over  the  transitoriness  of  life,  and  call  it 
a  trivial  game.  But  it  is  not  trivial ;  and  there 
is  no  spot  where  man  acts,  there  is  nothing  that 
he  does,  that  is  insignificant.  Perhaps  you 
have  a  quick  eye  for  the  foibles  of  people,  and 
can  detect  their  vanities,  and  meannesses,  and 
laughable  conceits.  If  you  employ  this  gift 
to  correct  a  bad  habit,  or  expose  a  falsehood, 
it  is  well  enough.  But  if  it  induces  you  to 
look  upon  things  merely  with  the  skill  of  a 
satirist,  then  let  me  say,  there  is  no  "  ludicrous 
side "  to  life  ;  there  is  nothing  in  human  con 
duct  that  is  simply  absurd.  The  least  transac 
tion  has  a  moral  cast,  and  every  word  and  act 
reveals  spiritual  relations.  The  interest  of  man 
can  never  be  thrown  into  insignificance  by  his 
conditions;  these  draw  interest  from  him. 
And,  whatever  his  post  in  the  world,  however 
limited  or  broad  his  sphere  of  observation,  for 
him  life  is  real,  and  has  intense  relations.  We 
must  not  stand  so  far  apart  from  the  crowd 
as  to  occupy  the  position  of  mere  spectators, 


THE    LESSONS    OF    THE    S  T  K  E  E  T  .  35 


and  regard  tliese  men  and  women  as  so  many 
mechanical  figures  in  a  panorama.  "We  must 
look  through  the  depths  of  their  experience 
into  their  own  souls,  and  through  the  depths 
of  that  experience  again  upon  the  world,  be 
holding  it  as  it  appears  to  the  beggar,  and  the 
lonely  woman,  and  the  child  of  vice  and  crime, 
and  the  hero,  and  the  saint,  and  as  it  falls  with 
intense  yet  diverse  refractions  upon  all  these 
multiform  angles  of  personality.  So  shall  we 
learn  to  cherish  a  solemn  and  tender  interest  in 
the  dear  humanity  around  us,  and  feel  the  ar 
teries  of  sympathy  which  connect  it,  in  all  its 
conditions,  with  our  own  hearts.  And,  as  we 
return  homeward  from  our  study  of  the  street, 
it  may  be  with  our  irritation,  and  prejudice, 
and  selfishness  softened  down ;  with  a  larger 
love  flowing  out  towards  the  least,  and  even  the 
worst ;  realizing  the  spiritual  ties  that  make  us 
one,  and  the  Infinite  Fatherhood  that  encircles 
us  all ;  perhaps  suggestions  will  come  to  us 
that  have  been  best  expressed  in  the  words  of 
the  poet — 

"  Let  us  move  slowly  through  the  street, 
Filled  with  an  ever-shifting  train, 


36          H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N      T  Jl  K      0  I  T  Y  . 


Amid  the  sound  of  steps  that  beat 

The  murmuring  walks  like  autumn  rain. 

'•  How  fast  the  flitting  figures  come  ! 

The  mild,  the  fierce,  the  stony  face  ; 
Some  bright  with  thoughtless  smiles,  and  some 

Where  secret  tears  have  left  their  trace. 


•  Each,  where  his  tasks  or  pleasures  call. 

They  pass,  and  heed  each  other  not. 
There  is,  Who  heeds,  Who  holds  them  all, 
In  His  large  love  and  boundless  thought. 

These  struggling  tides  of  life  that  seem, 
In  wayward,  aimless  course  to  tend, 

Are  eddies  of  the  mighty  stream 
That  rolls  to  its  appointed  end." 


MAN   AND   MACHINERY. 


DISCOURSE    II. 

MAN    AND    MACHINERY. 

For  the  spirit  of  the  living  creature  was  in  the  wheels. — 
EZEKIEL,  i.  20. 

WHATEVER  may  have  been  the  significance 
of  the  sublime  vision  from  which  I  have  ex 
tracted  those  words,  I  do  not  think  that  their 
essential  meaning  is  perverted  when  I  apply 
them  to  the  subject  which  comes  before  us 
this  evening.  I  am  not  aware  of  any  sentence 
that  expresses  more  concisely  the  relation 
which  I  would  indicate  between  Man  and 
Machinery ;  between  those  great  agents  of 
human  achievment  and  the  living  intelligence 
which  w^orks  in  them  and  by  them.  And 
though  a  Divine  Spirit  moved  in  those  flash 
ing  splendors  which  burned  before  the  eyes  of 
the  prophet,  is  it  not  also  a  divine  spirit  that 
mingles  in  every  great  manifestation  of  human- 


40       HUMANITY    i  N    T  H  E    C  i  T  Y  . 


ity,  and  that  moves  even  in  the  action  of  man, 
the  worker,  toiling  among  innumerable  wheels? 
Perhaps  if  we  were  called  upon  to  name 
some  one  feature  of  the  present  age  which  dis 
tinguishes  it  from  all  other  ages,  and  endows 
it  with  a  special  wonder  and  glory,  we  should 
call  it  the  Age  of  Machinery.  "We  trust 
our  age  is  unfolding  something  better  than 
material  triumphs.  The  results  of  past  thought 
and  past  endeavor  are  pouring  through  it  in 
expanding  currents  of  knowledge,  liberty, 
and  brotherhood.  But  the  great  agents  in  this 
diffusion  of  ideas  and  principles  are  those  ve 
hicles  of  iron,  and  those  messengers  of  light 
ning,  which  compress  the  huge  globe  into  a 
neighborhood,  and  bring  all  its  interests  within 
the  system  of  a  daily  newspaper.  Like  the 
generations  which  have  preceded  us,  we  enter 
into  the  labors  of  others,  and  inherit  the  fruits 
of  their  effort.  But  these  powerful  instru 
ments,  condensing  time  and  space,  endow  a 
single  half-century  with  the  possibilities  of  a 
cycle.  If  we  take  the  period  comprehending 
the  American  and  the  French  revolutions  as  a 
dividing  line,  and  look  both  sides  the  chasm, 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.         41 


we  shall  discover  the  difference  of  a  thousand 
years.  Bemarkable  for  brilliant  achievments 
in  every  department  of  physics,  ours  well  de 
serves  to  be  called  the  Age  of  Science,  also. 
But  it  is  still  more  remarkable,  for  the  appli 
cation  of  the  most  majestic  and.  subtle  consti 
tuents  of  the  universe  to  the  most  familiar 
uses;  the  wild  forces  of  matter  have  been 
caught  and  harnessed.  Go  into  any  factory, 
and  see  what  fine  workmen  w^e  have  made  of 
the  great  elements  around  us.  See  how  mag 
nificent  nature  has  humbled  itself,  and  works 
in  shirt-sleeves.  Without  food,  without  sweat, 
without  weariness,  it  toils  all  day  at  the  loom, 
and  shouts  lustily  in  the  sounding  wheels. 
How  diligently  the  iron  fingers  pick  and  sort, 
and  the  muscles  of  steel  retain  their  faithful 
gripe,  and  enormous  energies  run  to  and  fro 
with  an  obedient  click  ;  while  forces  that  tear 
the  arteries  of  the  earth  and  heave  volcanoes, 
spin  the  fabric  of  an  infant's  robe,  and  weave 
the  flowers  in  a  lady's  brocade. 

I  think,  then,  wre  may  appropriately  call  it 
— The  Age  of  Machinery.  It  is  not  a  peculi 
arity  of  the  city,  but,  rather,  seeks  room  to  y 


42        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


stretch  itself  out ;  and  so  you  may  perceive  its 
smoky  signals  hovering  over  a  thousand  val- 

lies.  and  the  echo  of  its  mighty  pulses  throb- 
\/ 

bing  among  the  loneliest  hills.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  sufficiently  developed  here  to  illustrate 
the  Conditions  of  Humanity  in  the  City,  and 
this  fact,  together  with  the  general  interest  of 
the  subject,  is  my  warrant  for  taking  it  up  in 
the  present  discourse.  And  my  remarks  must 
necessarily  be  of  a  general  cast,  as  I  have  no 
room  for  the  statistics,  and  details,  and  various 
discussions  which  grow  out  of  the  theme. 

And  the  key-note  of  all  that  I  shall  say,  at 
the  present  time,  is  really  in  the  text  itself — 
"  For  the  spirit  of  the  living  creature  was  in 
the  wheels." 

In  the  first  place,  these  words  suggest  the 
relations  of  Use  and  Help  between  Man  and 
Machinery.  Upon  surveying  these  numerous 
and  complicated  instruments,  the  thought  that 
most  readily  occurs,  perhaps,  is  that  of  the  ne 
cessity  of  machinery.  The  very  first  step  that 
man  takes,  out  of  the  condition  of  infant  weak 
ness  and  animal  rudeness,  must  be  accom 
plished  by  the  aid  of  some  implement.  He 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.         43 


alone,  of  all  beings  upon  the  face  of  the  earth, 
is  obliged  to  invent,  and  is  capable  of  endless 
invention.  The  necessity  for  this  springs  out, 
and  is  a  prophecy  of,  his  destiny.  The  moment 
he  was  seen  fashioning  the  first  tool,  however 
imperfect,  that  moment  was  indicated  the  dif 
ference  between  himself  and  the  brute,  and  the 
control  he  was  destined  to  gain  over  the  world 
about  him.  To  fulfil  this  destiny,  he  confronts 
nature  with  naked  hands ;  and  yet,  there  is 
the  earth  to  plough,  the  harvest  to  reap,  the 
torrent  to  bridge,  the  ocean  to  cross ;  there  are 
all  the  results  to  achieve  which  constitute  the 
difference  between  the  primitive  man,  and  the 
civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The 
Machine,  then — the  agent  which  links  the  gra 
tification  to  the  want — is  born  of  necessity. 
But  we  must  make  a  distinction  between  those 
instruments  which  are  positively  essential,  and 
those,  for  instance,  which,  merely  answer  the 
demands  of  luxury  or  indolence. 

And  this  brings  up  the  question  of  the  com 
parative  uses  of  Machinery— the  foremost  place 
being  assigned  to  those  implements  which  are 
absolutely  indispensable  to  man's  existence 


44        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


upon  the  earth.  But  between  this  absolute 
degree,  and  that  of  frivolous  invention,  there 
are  countless  grades  of  utility.  And  the  ques 
tion  of  usefulness  must  be  decided  according 
to  the  standard  of  utility  which  we  apply.  If 
'  bare  subsistence  is  assumed  to  be  the  end  of 
man  upon  the  earth,  most  of  our  modern  in 
ventions  are  useless.  "We  can  travel  without 
a  locomotive,  and  procure  a  meal  without  a 
cooking-range.  The  moment  wre  rise  above 
the  grossest  conception  of  human  existence, 
the  test  of  usefulness  becomes  enlarged,  and 
we  can  make  a  safe  decision  upon  whatever 
increases  man's  comfort,  adds  to  his  ability,  or 
inspires  his  culture.  In  this  way,  new  things 
become  indispensable.  That  which  was  not 
necessary  a  priori,  is  necessary  now,  in  a  fresh 
stage  of  development,  and  in  connection  with 
circumstances  that  have  sprung  up  and  formed 
around  it.  That  which  was  not  necessary  to 
man  the  savage,  living  on  roots  and  raw  fish, 
is  necessary  to  man  the  civilized,  with  new 
possibilities  opening  before  him,  and  new  facul 
ties  unfolded  within  him.  The  printing-press 
was  not  absolutely  necessary  to  JSTimrod,  or  to 


M  A  N    AND    MACHINERY. 


Julius  Caesar,  but  is  it  not  absolutely  necessary 
now  ?  Strike  it  out  of  existence  to-day,  and 
what  would  be  the  condition  of  the  world  to 
morrow  ?  You  would  have  to  tear  away  with 
it  all  that  has  grown  up  around  it,  and  become 
assimilated  to  it — -the  textures  of  the  world's 
growth  for  three  hundred  years.  Paul  moved 
the  old  world  without  a  telegraph,  and  Colum 
bus  found  a  new  one  without  a  steam-ship. 
But  see  how  essential  these  agents  are  to  the 
present  condition  of  civilization.  How  many 
derangements  among  the  wheels  of  business, 
and  the  plans  of  affection,  if  merely  a  snow 
drift  blocks  the  cars,  or  a  thunder-storm  snaps 
the  wires !  Our  estimate  of  necessity,  and, 
therefore,  of  utility,  must  be  formed  according 
to  present  conditions,  and  the  legitimate  de 
mand  that  rises  out  of  them  ;  these  conditions 
themselves  being  the  necessary  developments 
of  society  and  of  the  individual. 

But  some  of  these,  you  may  say,  are  the 
demands  of  luxury,  of  indolent  ease,  of  man 
setting  nature  to  work  and  lapsing  in  self- 
indulgence.  To  some  degree  this  result  may 
grow  out  of  the  present  state  of  things;  as 


46        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


some  portion  of  evil  will  follow  in  the  sweep 
of  an  immense  good.  But  what  is  the  precise 
sentence  to  be  passed  upon  this  prevalent 
luxury?  Of  course,  admitting  the  evil — which 
is  apparent — I  maintain  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  good  in  it ;  that  it  is  inextricably  asso 
ciated  with  much  real  refinement  and  progress. 
Men  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  simplicity 
and  purity  of  past  times,  and  to  compare,  with 
a  sigh,  the  good  old  era  of  the  stage-coach  and 
the  spinning-wheel  with,  these  days  of  whizzing 
machinery,  Aladdin  palaces,  and  California 
gold.  But  the  core  of  logic  that  lies  within 
this  rind  of  sentiment  forces  a  conclusion  that  I 
can  by  no  means  admit,  the  conclusion  that  the 
world  is  going  backward.  I  never  knew  of  an 
epoch  that  was  not  thought  by  some  then  living 
to  be  the  worst  that  ever  was,  and  which  did  not 
seem  to  stand  in  humiliating  contrast  with 
some  blessed  period  gone  by.  But  the  golden 
age  of  Christianity  is  in  the  future,  not  in  the 
past.  Those  old  ages  are  like  the  landscape 
that  shows  best  in  purple  distance,  all  verdant 
and  smooth  and  bathed  in  mellow  light.  But 
could  we  go  back  and  touch  the  reality,  we 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY. 


should  find  many  a  swamp  of  disease,  and 
rough  and  grimy  paths  of  rock  and  mire. 
Those  were  good  old  times,  it  may  be  thought, 
when  baron  and  peasant  feasted  together.  But 
the  one  could  not  read,  and  made  his  mark 
with  a  sword-pommel ;  and  the  other  was  not 
held  so  dear  as  a  favorite  dog.  Pure  and 
simple  times  were  those  of  our  grandfathers, — 
it  may  be.  Possibly  not  so  pure  as  we  may 
think,  however,  and  with  a  simplicity  ingrained 
with  some  bigotry  and  a  good  deal  of  conceit. 
The  fact  is,  we  are  bad  enough,  imperfect,  not 
because  we  are  growing  worse,  but  because 
we  are  yet  far  from  the  best.  I  think,  how 
ever,  with  Lord  Bacon,  that  these  are  "the  old 
times."  The  world  is  older  now  than  it  ever 
was,  and  it  contains  the  best  life  and  fruition  v 
of  the  past.  And  this  special  condition  of 
luxury  is  a  growth  out  of  the  past,  and  is  the 
necessary  concomitant  of  much  that  is  good. 
Opening  new  channels  for  industry,  it  furnishes 
occupation  for  thousands ;  wiiile,  in  many  of 
its  phases,  it  indicates  a  refined  culture,  and  a 
sphere  elevated  above  the  imperative  wants  ol 
existence.  It  is  no  proof  of  the  disadvantages  v 


HUMANITY    IN    T HE    C i T  Y  . 


of  machinery,  therefore,  to  say  that  it  ministers 
to  something  beside  absolute  bodily  need,  and 
delivers  man  from  a  slow  and  exhausting 
drudgery.  So  far  as  it  helps  us  to  control 
nature,  and  increases  the  facilities  of  human 
intercourse,  and  diffuses  general  comfort  and 
elegance,  and  affords  a  respite  from  incessant 
physical  toil,  so  far  it  is  an  agent  and  a  sign  of 
progress. 

But,  it  may  be  said  again,  that  it  is  the  agent 
of  a  selfish  and  exclusive  power,  enriching  a 
few  and  injuring  many.  And  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  grave  problems  grow  out  of  the 
relations  between  Machinery  and  the  laboring 
classes.  Every  little  while,  some  new  inven 
tion  is  thrust  forward,  which  takes  a  portion  of 
labor  out  of  the  hands  of  flesh  and  transfers 
it  to  hands  of  iron.  It  is  not  enough  to  say 
that  mankind  in  general  is  benefited  by  these 
inanimate  agents,  which  do  the  work  of  the 
world  so  much  more  rapidly  and  powerfully. 
This  may  answer  as  an  argument  against  a 
monopoly  of  any  one  kind  of  mechanical  force. 
It  may  be  a  reason  for  using  cars  instead  of 
steamboats,  and  balloons  rather  than  railroads. 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.          49 


The  general  good  must  be  advanced,  whatever 
the  damage  to  private  interests.  But  the 
present  case  brings  up  the  question  whether 
machinery  is  a  general  good  at  all ;  whether 
the  effect  of  its  introduction  into  almost  every 
department  of  labor,  will  not  be  felt  in  the 
destitution  of  millions.  And,  upon  this  point, 
I  observe,  that,  like  all  other  great  revolutions, 
the  immediate  effect  may  be  such  as  has  been 
suggested.  But  the  final  result  will  be  bene 
ficial,  and  such  a  result  may  be  traced  out  even 
now.  For  instance,  this  clogging  of  old  de 
partments  of  labor  will  precipitate  men  upon 
fresh  ones,  and  upon  those  that  have  been  too 
much  neglected.  It  will  tend  to  introduce 
woman  to  branches  of  industry  perfectly  suited 
to  her,  but  which  have  been  too  exclusively 
occupied  by  the  other  sex,  and  to  turn  the  at 
tention  of  robust  men  to  those  great  fields  of 
productive  toil  which  are  as  yet  but  little  im 
proved.  It  may  drive  them  from  the  depend 
ence,  the  crowded  competition,  the  unwhole 
some  life  of  the  city,  into  the  broad  fields  and 
open  air  and  the  sovreignty  of  the  soil.  And 
if  this  immense  intrusion  of  machinery  has 
3 


50        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


only  this  result,  of  equalizing  the  balance 
against  production,  we  shall  have  one  solution 
of  the  problem.  And  there  will  be  another 
solution,  if  this  phalanx  of  mechanism  shall 
lift  the  mass  of  men  above  the  occasions  of 
coarse  material  drudgery  into  other  activities, 
which  doubtless  will  be  thrown  open,  and 
shall  allow  more  leisure  for  spiritual  culture. 
But  in  this,  and  all  other  great  questions 
affecting  huinan  welfare,  I  throw  myself  back, 
finally,  upon  the  tokens  of  Providential  De 
sign.  The  world  moves  forward,  not  back 
ward  ;  and  the  great  developments  of  time  are 
for  good,  not  evil.  By  machinery,  man  pro 
ceeds  with  his  dominion  over  nature.  He  as 
similates  it  to  himself;  it  becomes,  so  to  speak, 
a  part  of  himself.  Every  great  invention  is 
\  the  enlargement  of  his  own  personality.  Iron 
and  fire  become  blood  and  muscle,  and  gravi 
tation  flows  in  the  current  of  his  will.  His 
pulses  beat  in  the  steamship,  throbbing  through 
the  deep,  while  the  fibres  of  his  heart  and 
brain  inclose  the  earth  in  an  electric  network 
of  thought  and  sympathy.  That  which  was 
given  to  help  man,  will  not  hinder  nor  hurt 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.          51 


him.     "  For  the  spirit  of  the  living  creature  is 
in  the  wheels." 

I  observe,  in  the  second  place,  that  the 
words  of  the  text  accord  with  the  testimony 
which  machinery  bears  to  the  dignity  of  man. 
All  these  great  inventions — these  implements 
of  marvellous  skill  and  power — prove  that  the 
inventor,  or  the  worker,  himself  is  not  a 
machine.  I  know  of  nothing  which  gives  me 
so  forcible  an  impression  of  the  worth  and 
superiority  of  mind,  of  its  alliance  with  the 
Creative  Intelligence,  as  the  exhibition  of  an 
ingenious  piece  of  mechanism.  I  have  stood 
with  wonder  before  such  a  specimen,  and  seen 
it  work  with  all  the  precision  of  a  reflecting 
creature.  Lifting  the  most  tremendous  weights, 
cleaving  the  most  solid  masses,  performing  the 
nicest  tasks,  as  though  a  living  intellect  were 
in  it,  informing  it  and  directing  its  power.  I 
hardly  know  of  any  achievement  that  stands  as 
a  higher  witness  for  the  human  mind.  The 
great  poem  that  bursts  in  a  flood  of  inspiration 
upon  the  soul  of  genius,  and  opens  the  realms 
of  immortal  beauty,  may  lift  us  to  a  nobler 
plane  of  endeavor.  The  heroic  act  of  toil  or 


52        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


martyrdom    for    principle,    certainly    has    a 
loftier,  because  it  is  a  moral,  grandeur.    But 
as  an  illustration  of  the  creativeness  of  man's 
intellect — -of  its   wondrous   capability — of  its 
allia.nce   with  that   attribute   of    the    Divine 
Nature  which  is  evident  in  the  fibres  of  the 
grass-blade  and  the  inarch  of  the  galaxy — 1 
know  of  nothing  more  striking  than  this  piece 
of  mechanism,  which  is  the  product  of  the 
most  profound  and  patient  thought,  the  har 
monizing  of  antagonistic  forces,  the  combina 
tion  of  the  most  abstruse  details,  fitted  to  the 
remotest  exigencies,  and  working  just  as  the 
inventive  mind  meant  it  should,  and  just  as  it 
was  set  a-going,  as  if  that  mind  were  presiding 
over  it,  were  in  it,  though  it  is  now  far  distant, 
or  has  vanished  from  the  earth.     That  mind  is 
immortal !    that  nature,  which  is  common  to 
all  men,  transcends  any  shape  of  matter  and 
is  superior  to  mechanism.      And  it  may  be 
necessary  to  say  this,  necessary  to  say  that 
man,  who  is  helped  by  machinery,  is  separate 
from  it.     It  is  mind  that  is  thus  involved  with 
matter.     The  spirit  of  a  living  creature  that  is 
in  the  wheels. 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.         53 


It  may  be  necessary  to  say  this,  my  friends, 
and  to  say  it  frequently,  lest  the  vast  mechan 
ical  achievements  of  our  time  seduce  us  into  a 
mere  mechanical  life.     I  do  not  think  that  the 
deepest  question  is,  whether  machinery  will 
multiply  to  such  an  extent  as  to  snatch  the 
bread  from  the  mouths  of  living  men ;   but 
whether  men,  with  all  the  possibilities  of  their 
nature,  -will  not  become  absorbed  in  that  which   v- 
supplies  them  with  bread  alone  ?    I  have  just 
expressed  my  admiration  for  the  genius  of  the 
great  inventor.     ]N~or  can  I  honor  too  highly 
the  faithful  and  industrious  mechanic — the  man 
who  fills  up  his  chink  in  the  great  economy  by 
patiently  using  his  hammer  or  his  wheel.    For, 
he  does  something.     If  he  only  sews  a  welt,  or 
planes  a  knot,  he  helps  build  up  the  solid 
pyramid  of  this  world's  welfare.     While  there 
are  those  who,  exhibiting  but  little  use  while 
living,  might,  if  embalmed,  serve  the  same 
purpose  as  those  forms  of  ape  and  ibis  inside 
the  Egyptian  caverns — serve  to  illustrate  the 
shapes  and  idolatries  of  human  conceit.     At 
any  rate,  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  essential 
nobility  of  that  man  who  pours  into  life  the 


54        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


honest  vigor  of  his  toil,  over  those  who  com 
pose  this  feathery  foam  of  fashion  that  sweeps 
along  Broadway  ;  who  consider  the  insignia  of 
honor  to  consist  in  wealth  and  indolence  ;  and 
who,  ignoring  the  family  history,  paint  coats 
of  arms  to  cover  up  the  leather  aprons  of  their 
grandfathers. 

I  shall  not  be  misunderstood  then,  when, 
making  a  distinction  in  behalf  of  the  mechanic 
by  profession,  I  say  that  no  man  should  be  a 
mere  mechanic  in  soul.  In  other  words,  no 
man  should  be  bound  up  in  a  routine  of  ma 
terial  ends  and  uses.  He  should  not  be  a  me 
chanic,  working  exclusively  in  a  dead  system, 
but  always  the  architect  of  a  living  ideal. 
And  surrounded,  astonished,  served  and  en 
riched  as  we  are  by  these  splendid  legions  of 
mechanism,  the  danger  is  that  material 
achievement  will  seem  to  us  the  supreme 
achievement;  that  all  life  will  become  ma 
chinery;  and  the  higher  interests  of  being, 
and  the  great  firmament  of  immortality,  be 
eclipsed  by  these  flashing  wheels.  We  are  in 
danger  of  being  drawn  away  from  the  sancti 
ties  of  the  inner  life  and  the  still  work  of  the 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.         55 


soul,  by  this  maelstrom  of  excitement  and 
power.  ~No  religious  man  can  help  asking, 
and  asking  anxiously,  whether  the  spirit  of  de 
votion  is  as  deep  and  fresh,  whether  spiritual 
communion  with  God  is  as  direct  and  constant, 
in  this  whirl  and  roar,  and  marvellous  achieve 
ment,  as  they  were  in  times  bearing  less  evi 
dently  the  signs  of  material  progress.  For, 
that  which  merely  gives  us  a  stronger  grasp 
of  the  world  around  us,  and  sends  us  along 
the  level  of  nature,  is  not  the  most  genuine 
element  of  progress ;  but  that  which  elevates 
our  moral  plane  and  enriches  the  great  deep 
of  our  spiritual  being.  The  steamship  and 
telegraph  are  not  absolute  tokens  of  this  pro 
gress,  but  the  moral  earnestness  and  the  Chris 
tian  charity  that  work  throng] i  them  are  ;  and 
these  must  spring  up  in  hearts  that  are  not 
merely  adjusted  to  the  world,  but  lifted  above 
it — that  are  not  so  occupied  by  mere  ma 
chinery  as  to  neglect  the  living  streams  of 
an  inward  and  devout  culture. 

But,  for  another  reason, — or  as  an  extension 
of  the  same  reason, — we  need  to  realize  the 
truth  that  man  is  separate  from  -and  superior 


56        HUMANITY    i  x    T  H  E    CITY. 


to  machinery.     It  is  because,  upon  a  practical 
recognition  of  this  truth  depends  the  just  action 
of  all  who  control  the  interests  of  labor,  and, 
so  to  speak,  the  lives  and  souls  of  the  laborers. 
If  we   should   beware   of   an  influence   that 
would  render  us  mere  mechanics  in  our  own 
higher    nature,   we  should    likewise  remove 
anything  that  makes  others  mere   machines, 
presenting  for  us  no  other  consideration  than 
the  amount  of  work  they  can  perform  for  us, 
and  with  how  little  care  and  cost.     I  cannot 
now  enter  into  the  great  questions  that  spring 
up  here  concerning  the   relations   of  capital 
and  labor,  and  of  the  employer  and  the  em 
ployed.     I  only  observe  that  these  are  among 
the  deepest  questions  of  the  time :    questions 
which  will  be  heard,  which  must  be  discussed, 
and  practically  answered.     And  they  who  by 
plans    and    experiments,    however    visionary 
they  may  seem,  however  abortive  they  may 
prove,  are   trying  to  solve  this  problem,  are 
much  wiser  in  their  generation  than  those  who 
content  themselves  with  cutaneous  palliatives 
and  a  stolid  conservatism.     But  I  maintain 
now,   that  back   of   all   these   considerations 


MAN    AND    MACHINERY.         57 


stands  this  truism, — that  man  is  not  a  machine ; 
that  the  being  who  toils  in  the  factory,  the 
furnace,  the  dark  mine  underground,  is  one 
who  needs  and  hopes  and  suffers  and  dies, 
as  sinews  of  iron  and  fabrics  of  brass  cannot. 
"  The  spirit  of  a  living  creature  is  in  the 
wheels."  A  cry  for  justice,  for  free  action, 
for  spiritual  opportunity,  comes  not  from  the 
roaring  engine  or  the  dizzy  loom,  but  out  from 
the  midst  of  those  who  are  endowed  with  the 
sensitiveness  and  the  moral  possibilities  that 
belong  to  humanity,  and  humanity  alone. 
Set  in  motion  the  grandest  piece  of  mechanism 
ever  conceived  by  human  genius,  and  still 
there  is  infinite  difference  between  it  and 
the  poorest  drudge  that  bears  God's  image, — • 
between  it  and  any  human  claim. 

It  must  have  been  a  noble  spectacle,  a  few 
weeks  since,  to  have  seen  that  great  ship* 
sail  out  of  port,  stretching  its  proud  beak  over 
the  sea,  and  with  thundering  exultation  tramp 
ling  its  sapphire  floor.  One  might  have  fol 
lowed  its  wake  with  a  glistening  eye,  and  said 

*  This  discourse  was  delivered  just  after  the  tidings  of 
the  loss  of  the  San  Francisco,  in  December,  1853. 

3* 


58        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


to  himself — "There  is  the  great  symbol  of 
human  progress,  there  is  the  consummation  of 
man's  triumph  over  nature  !  The  long  results 
of  ages  are  condensed  in  that  fabric  of  strength 
and  beauty.  Man  has  compelled  the  forest, 
and  ravished  the  mine,  and  converted  the 
stream,  and  chained  the  fire;  and  now,  with 
with  the  eye  of  science  and  the  hand  of  skill, 
he  rides  in  this  triumphal  chariot,  making  a 
swift,  obedient  pathway  of  the  deep !"  But 
when  that  dark  day  burst  upon  them,  and 
nature  with  one  angry  sweep  transformed  that 
splendid  palace  into  a  floating  death-chamber ; 
when  ocean  lifted  up  this  triumph  of  man's 
skill,  and  shook  it  like  a  toy ;  the  interest  which 
hung  over  that  awful  desolation — the  interest 
to  which  your  hearts  flow  out  with  painful 
sympathy  to-night — was  in  nothing  that  man 
had  achieved,  but  in  humanity  itself.  All 
the  workmanship,  all  the  material  splendor, 
all  the  skill,  were  nothing  compared  with 
one  heart  beating  amidst  that  tempest ; 
compared  with  one  groan  that  rose  from 
that  sea  of  agony,  and  then  was  silent  for 
ever. 


MAN    AND     MACHINERY.         59 


And,  again,  when  I  consider  the  conduct  of 
that  gallant  captain  who,  day  by  day,  rode 
by  the  side  of  the  shuddering  wreck,  and  in 
slippery  peril  maintained  the  royalty  of  his 
manhood,  and  sent  a  brother's  cheer  and  a 
brother's  help  through  the  storm ;  when  I 
think  of  that  noble  achievement  where  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  and  the  Cross  of  St.  George 
were  lost  and  blended  in  the  light  of  universal 
humanity  ;  I  say  to  myself — how  does  an  act 
like  this  shed  light  upon  a  thousand  instances 
of  human  depravity  !  What  is  any  material 
triumph  compared  to  this  moral  beauty !  And 
what  is  the  great  distinction  between  rags 
and  coronets,  between  senates  and  work 
shops,  when,  in  the  breast  of  every  man,  and 
everywhere,  there  is  the  possibility  of  such 
heroism,  such  charity,  and  such  splendid  per 
formance  ! 

And  so,  my  friends,  turning  from  this  spe 
cific  illustration,  and  looking  through  the  wards 
of  cities,  the  busy  factories,  the  dim  attics  and 
cellars,  they  all  become  glorious  by  the  re 
flected  light  of  the  humanity  that  toils  and 
suffers  within  them.  Man  is  greater  than  any 


60       HUMANITY    IN    THE    C  i T y  . 


achievement  of  mechanism,  any  interest  of 
capital,  and  all  the  questions  which  these  in 
volve  must  be  brought  to  the  test  of  his  moral 
capabilities,  and  his  spiritual  as  well  as 
earthly  wants. 

But  I  observe,  finally,  that  the  words  of  the 
text  suggest  the  Providential  design  and  the 
Divine  agency  that  are  involved  in  the  great 
mechanical  achievements  of  our  age.  As  the 
Divine  Spirit  flowed  through  those  living 
creatures  and  moved  those  wheels,  so  God's 
influence  is  in  the  movement  of  humanity,  and 
in  the  instruments  of  that  movement.  We 
get  only  a  narrow,  and  often  an  inexplicable 
conception  of  things,  until  we  behold  them 
encircled  by  this  horizon  of  a  Providential  de 
sign.  And  if  humanity,  with  all  its  claims 
and  possibilities,  is  involved  in  this  network 
of  mechanism,  so  doubtless  are  the  processes 
of  Infinite  Wisdom.  Something  more  than 
material  greatness,  or  ends  limited  merely  to 
this  earth,  is  to  be  wrought  out  by  it.  Indica 
tions  of  this  appear  already.  The  telegraph 
and  steamship,  for  instance,  serve  not  only  the 
interests  of  trade  and  commerce,  but  of  lib- 


M  A  N      A  N  IP       M  A  V  H  I  N  V,  R  Y  .  01 

erty,  and  brotherhood,  and  of  Christian  innu 
ence. 

It  is  beautiful  to  see  how  the  most  selfish 
agents  presently  become  converted  to  the 
broadest  uses,  and  matter  is  transformed  into 
the  vehicle  of  spirit.  For  God  is  in  history. 
It  is  a  Divine  dispensation,  and  has  miracles 
of  its  own.  Andy  because  they  come  by  natu 
ral  development  let  us  not  fail  to  recognize 
the  benevolence  and  the  significance  involved 
with  them.  Is  not  the  effect  of  miracle  in  the 
electric  wire  ?  The  printing-press,  is  it  not  the 
gift  of  tongues  ?  It  is  atheistic  to  suppose  that 
all  these  wondrous  agents  have  only  a  narrow 
and  material  purpose,  and  play  no  part  in  the 
highest  scheme  of  the  world.  Like  the  pro 
phet  by  the  river  Chebar,  we  may  behold  them 
as  the  symbols  in  a  sublime  vision.  These 
wheels  within  wheels,  full  of  eyes,  full  of  in 
telligence,  and  full  of  human  destiny  and  vast 
purpose,  we  know  not  all  their  meaning  yet. 
But  they  have  a  great  meaning.  Beneficent 
intention  runs  through  their  swift  motions — 

o 

voices  of  promise  rise  in  their  multitudinous 
sounds.     A  living  spirit  is  in  these  wheels — 


62  H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N      T  HE      C  I  T  Y  . 


the  influence  of  God ;  the  spirit  of  man.  And, 
in  due  time,  out  of  them  will  evolve  the  incal 
culable  issues  of  human  welfare  and  the  Di 
vine  glory. 


THE   STRIFE   FOR   PRECEDENCE. 


DISCOURSE    III. 

THE   STRIFE  FOR  PRECEDENCE. 

And  if  a  man  strive  for  masteries,  yet  is  he  not  crowned 
except  he  strive  lawfully. — II.  TIMOTHY,  ii.  5. 

IN  walking  the  streets  of  the  city,  there  rises 
the  interesting  question — What  are  the  various 
motives  which  animate  these  restless  people, 
and  send  them  to  and  fro?  As  a  French 
author  has  well  observed, — "The  necessaries 
of  life  do  not  occasion,  at  most,  a  third  part  of 
the  hurry."  They  are  comparatively  few  who 
struggle  among  these  busy  waves  for  a  bare 
subsistence.  There  are  others  who  are  im 
pelled  by  some  of  the  deepest  affections  of  the 
human  heart,  and  who  toil  day  after  day  with 
noble  self-sacrifice  for  the  comfort  of  dependent 
parents,  and  helpless  children.  While  others 
still  run  on  errands  of  mercy,  and  work  in  the 
harness  of  unrelaxing  duty.  But  when  we  have 


66      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


taken  all  these  influences  into  the  account,  and 
made  the  most  of  them,  there  remains  a  large 
quantity  of  activity  which,  as  we  trace  it  to 
its  spring,  we  shall  find  issuing  from  a  desire 
for  influence',  for  notoriety,  for  some  kind  of 
personal  distinction.  The  city, — in  this  in 
stance,  as  in  many  others,  representing  the 
world  at  large, — is  essentially  a  race-course, 
or  battle-field,  in  which,  through  forms  of  am 
bitious  effort,  and  cunning  method,  and  plod 
ding  labor,  and  ostentation,  the  aspirations  of 
thousands  appear  and  carry  on  a  Strife  for 
Precedence. 

And,  in  selecting  this  phase  of  human  life 
as  the  theme  of  the  present  disco  arse,  I  observe 
in  the  first  place — that  the  desire  for  prece 
dence  is  one  of  the  deepest  and  most  subtle 
motives  in  the  soul  of  man.  It  is  prolific  of 
disguises.  It  is  not  merely  under  the  mask 
which  we  may  put  on  before  other  people,  but 
it  glides  through  various  transformations  of 
self-deceit ;  like  the  evil  genius  in  the  fairy 
tale,  now  dwindling  to  a  mere  seed,  now 
bursting  into  a  devouring  fire.  When,  with  an 
honest  purpose,  we  probe  it  and  pluck  at  it, 


STRIFE    FOR    PRECEDENCE.     67 


still  we  may  detect  it  in  the  lowest  socket  of 
the  heart.  Often  it  is  most  vital  when  we  feel 
most  sure  that  it  is  vanquished.  It  delights 
in  the  garb  of  humility,  and  finds  its  food  in 
the  profession  of  self-renunciation.  See  its 
grossest  expression  in  the  desire  for  physical 
superiority — the  glory  of  the  victor  in  the 
Grecian  games,  or  the  modern  pugilist  with 
the  champion's  belt.  This  is  the  reason  why 
men,  priding  themselves  upon  qualities  in 
wThich  they  are  equalled  by  any  mastiff  and 
excelled  by  any  horse,  will  stand  up  and 
batter  one  another  into  a  mass  of  blood  and 
bruises.  And  if  we  analyze  the  merit  of  some 
conqueror  upon  a  hundred  battle-fields,  we 
shall  find  ingredients  almost  as  coarse.  Only 
there  was  a  larger  impulse,  and  more  genius 
to  light  the  way ;  so  that  his  combat  in  the 
ring  became  achievement,  and  his  success 
fame.  The  outside  difference  was  in  the 
value  of  the  stakes ;  but  the  huzzas  did  not 
rise  much  nearer  to  heaven  in  the  one  instance 
than  in  the  other.  And  when  we  get  at 
the  real  centre  of  all  those  plaudits,  we  find 
only  a  little  throbbing  atom,  a  little  human 


68        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


heart,  all  on  tire  with  the  lust  for  supre 
macy. 

But  these  are  the  more  palpable  shapes  of 
this  desire  for  Precedence.  It  works  more 
covertly,  but  with  no  less  energy.  I  need  not 
— for  I  cannot — specify  all  the  instances  in 
which  it  acts.  It  would  constitute  a  more  con 
cise  statement  to  affirm  where  it  does  not  act. 
It  is  sufficiently  apparent  in  the  scramble  of 
the  market  and  the  parade  of  the  street ;  at 
the  toilette  of  beauty  ;  in  the  etiquette  of  the 
drawing-room,  where  people  sit  as  if  in  a  cav 
ern  of  icicles ;  in  the  spurious  patriotism  of 
politics ;  and  too  often,  it  is  to  be  feared,  in  the 
highest  seats  of  the  synagogue,  and  where  men 
lift  holy  hands  of  prayer.  It  is  the  scholar's 
inspiration.  "When  he  comes  to  the  steep  and 
rugged  way,  it  helps  him  to  make  a  foot-hold, 
and  the  thorns  blossom  into  roses  as  he  climbs. 
Sometimes,  even,  it  saturates  the  plan  of  the 
philanthropist,  and  peppers  the  milk  of  his 
charity  with  an  inconsistent  wrath. 

It  seems  an  unhappy,  as  it  must  often  be  an 
unjust  method,  to  attribute  any  appearance  of 
good  conduct  to  the  meanest  possible  motive. 


STKIFE    FOE    PRECEDENCE.      69 


It  is  a  policy  that  makes  a  man  afraid  of  his 
best  friends.  He  feels  that  every  draft  he 
makes  upon  human  honor,  or  affection,  is  liable 
to  be  cashed  with  counterfeit  bills.  If  there 
were  no  alternative  between  the  cleverness 
that  suspects  everybody,  and  the  credulity 
that  trusts  everybody,  I  think  I  had  rather  be 
one  of  the  dupes  than  one  of  the  oracles. 
For,  really,  there  is  less  misery  in  being 
cheated  than  in  that  kind  of  wisdom  which 
perceives,  or  thinks  it  perceives,  that  all  man 
kind  are  cheats.  But,  while  simple  fact  for 
bids  our  assuming  either  of  these  extremes, 
we  must,  nevertheless,  in  reasoning  upon  the 
phenomena  of  human  conduct,  allow  large 
scope  for  the  influence  of  which  I  am  now 
treating.  For,  as  I  have  already  intimated, 
we  shall  find  it  lurking  under  numerous  forms. 
In  discussing  the  question  of  Slavery,  for  in 
stance,  it  is  often  said — that  it  is  for  the  inte 
rest  of  the  master  to  take  good  care  of  his  hu 
man  as  he  does  of  his  brute  stock — to  see  that 
they  are  well-fed,  clothed,  &c.  And  so  it  is 
for  his  int&rest  to  do  this.  But  how  often  does 
the  lust  for  supremacy  over-ride  interest  itself! 


70       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


How  often  does  an  imperious  personality  thrust 
itself  forward  in  the  most  absurd  ways,  dam 
aging  its  own  property  and  welfare,  just  as  a 
boy  breaks  his  top,  or  a  balked  rider  shoots  his 
horse,  or  an  independent  congregationalist 
locks  his  pew-door,  as  much  as  to  say — "  There, 
the  world  knows  one  thing  about  me,  at  least. 
It  knows  that  I  am  master  and  owner  here !" 

But  I  observe,  further,  that,  while  this  desire 
for  Precedence  is  common  among  men  of  all 
conditions,  there  are  some  modes  of  its  ex 
pression  which  are  peculiarly  excited  in  a  de 
mocratic  form  of  society.  That  which  is  the 
open  glory  of  a  community  like  ours,  is  with 
many  a  secret  vexation  and  shame.  People 
boast  here  of  the  equality  of  our  institutions, 
and  then  try  their  best  to  break  up  the  social 
level,  in  a  genuine  Aristocracy,  where  they 
have  endeavored  to  preserve  a  gulf-stream  of 
noble  blood  in  the  midst  of  the  plebeian  At 
lantic,  and  a  man  holds  his  distinction  by  the 
color  of  the  bark  on  his  family  tree,  and  the 
kind  of  sap  that  circulates  through  it,  there  is 
no  danger  of  any  unpleasant  mistakes.  The 
hard  palm  of  Labor  may  cross  the  gloved  hand 


STRIFE    F  o  K    P  K  E  c  E  D  E  N  c  E  .     71 


of  Leisure,  and  nobody  will  suspect  that  the 
select  is  too  familiar  with  the  vulgar.  Conse- 
cpently,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  affability  and 
prime  manliness,  besides  those  associations  of 
sentiment  and  imagination  which,  if  there 
must  be  an  aristocracy,  lend  it  an  artistic  con 
sistency.  But  here,  where  everybody  says  " 
that  all  men  are  equal,  and  everybody  is  afraid 
they  will  be ;  where  there  are  no  adamantine 
barriers  of  birth  and  caste  ;  people  are  anxious 
ly  exclusive.  And  though  the  forms  of  aristo 
cracy  flourish  more  gorgeously  in  their  native 
soil,  the  genuine  virus  can  be  found  in  !N~ew 
York  almost  as  readily  as  in  London,  or  Yien- 
na.  And  the  virus  breaks  out  in  the  most  ab 
surd  shapes  of  liveries  and  titles.  And  these 
forms  of  aspiration  are  not  only  absurd  because 
they  are  inconsistent,  but  because  they  illus 
trate  no  real  ground  of  precedence.  They  are 
superficial  and  uncertain.  They  do  not  per 
tain  to  the  man  but  to  his  accidents.  He  gains 
by  them  no  intrinsic  glory,  no  permanent  good. 
To  employ  the  language  of  the  text,  by  these 
he  strives  for  masteries  ;  but  he  does  not  strive 
lawfullv,  and  so  he  is  not  crowned.  And  this 


72       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


leads  me  to  say  something  respecting  what  is 
false,  and  what  is  legitimate,  in  that  strife  for 
Precedence  which  is  so  amply  illustrated  in 
the  life  of  the  City. 

Let  us,  then,  consider  some  of  the  forms 
which  this  struggle  assumes  in  the  streets  and 
the  dwellings  around  us.  I  remark,  in  the 
first  place,  that  it  inspires  much  of  the  effort 
for  wealth.  I  believe  there  are  but  few,  com 
paratively,  who  are  anxious  to  make  money 
merely  for  the  sake  of  piling  it  up,  and  count 
ing  it  out.  There  may  be  a  mania  of  this 
kind,  in  which  men  become  enamored  of 
Mammon  for  his  own  sake,  and  hug  him  to 
their  breasts,  and  kiss  his  golden  lips,  with  all 
the  ardor  of  lovers.  Still,  I  suspect  that  the 
genuine  miser — that  is,  one  who  loves  money 
for  itself  alone— is  an  exceptional  man.  But 
every  man  who  is  not  absolutely  inactive  and 
useless  in  the  world,  is  moved  by  some  kind 
of  passion.  For,  it  is  not  correct  to  speak  of 
outliving  our  passions.  We  may  outlive  the 
passion  of  young,  fresh  love,  that  makes  the 
world  a  May-time  of  blossoms  and  of  roses. 
We  may  outlive  the  passion  for  selfish  fame, 


STRIFE    FOE    P  R  E  c  E  D  E  N  c  E  .     73 


because  some  transcendent  claim  of  duty 
snatches  us  up  to  a  sublimer  level.  "We  may 
change  these  earlier  forms  for  the  passion  of 
philanthropy,  the  passion  for  truth,  the  passion 
of  holy  conviction.  But  so  long  as  we  live  at 
all,  we  do  not  outlive  passion.  And  with 
many  the  most  persistent  desire  is  for  that  pre 
cedence  which  attends  the  possession  of  wealth. 
That  miser,  as  you  call  him,  with  a  face  like 
parchment,  and  in  whose  nature  all  the  springs 
of  emotion  seem  to  have  grown  rusty  with 
long  disuse,  is  animated  by  a  secret  flame  that 
keeps  him  all  a-glow.  It  is  the  consciousness 
of  power — the  mightiest  power  of  the  present 
age — the  power  of  money.  Those  figures 
which  he  scrawls  at  his  writing-desk  involve  a 
more  potent  magic  than  the  cabalistic  cyphers 
of  Doctor  Dee,  or  Cornelius  Agrippa.  His 
hand  presses  the  spring  of  an  influence  that 
casts  midnight  or  sunshine  over  the  World  of 
Traffic,  and  shakes  entire  blocks  of  real  estate 
with  a  speculative  earthquake.  It  is  not  the 
Czar  or  the  Sultan,  but  the  Capitalist,  that 
makes  war  or  preserves  peace.  The  destinies, 
of  the  time  are  enacted  not  in  Congress  or 
4 


II  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      IN     THE      C  I  T  Y  . 


Parliament,  but  in  the  Bank  of  England  and 
in  "Wall  street.  It  is  a  mighty  power  that  sits 
on  'Change,  and  inspires  the  great  movements 
of  the  world ;  sending  its  messengers  panting 
through  the  deep  and  feeling  around  the  globe 
with  telegraphic  nerves.  And  one  may  well 
be  more  ambitious  to  wield  a  portion  of  this 
power  than  to  speak  in  senates,  or  to  sit  upon 
a  throne.  Here  is  something  that  will  raise 
him  above  the  common  level ;  will  pay  him 
for  long  years  of  sacrifice  and  contumely ;  will 
hide  meanness  of  birth,  and  scantiness  of  edu 
cation,  and  paint  over  the  stains  of  damaged 
character.  Here  is  the  most  feasible  way  of 
distinction  in  a  democracy.  The  doors  of 
respectability  and  honor  turn  on  silver  hinges. 
Gravity  relaxes,  fashion  gives  way,  beauty 
smiles,  and  talent  defers,  before  the  man  of 
money.  He  may  be  an  ignoramus,  but  he 
possesses  the  golden  alphabet.  He  may  be  a 
boor,  but  Plutus  lends  a  charm  which  eclipses 
the  grace  of  Apollo.  He  may  have  accumulated 
his  wealth  in  a  way  which  would  make  an  in 
telligent  hyena  ashamed  of  himself,  but  he  has 
accumulated  it,  and  the  past  is  forgotten.  I 


STRIFE    FOR    PRECEDENCE.     75 


do  not  mean  to  say  that,  as  the  general  rule, 
wealth  is  thus  associated,  but  I  believe  that 
one  great  motive  for  money-getting,  is  the 
consciousness  of  the  power  and  the  distinction 
that  accompany  its  possession ;  and  so,  many  a 
man  in  the  thick  dust  of  the  mart — though  it 
may  not  always  be  clear  to  himself — is  really 
engaged  in  a  strife  for  Precedence. 

Again,  consider  the  illustrations  of  this  strife 
in  the  Style  of  Living.  It  is  really  a  battle  of 
chairs  and  mirrors,  of  plate  and  equipage,  and 
is  the  spring  of  the  monstrous  extravagance 
that  characterizes  our  city  life.  For  I  suppose 
there  is  no  place  on  the  earth  where  people 
have  run  into  such  gorgeous  nonsense  as  here 
—turning  home  into  a  Parisian  toy-shop,  ab 
sorbing  the  price  of  a  good  farm  in  the  orna 
ments  of  a  parlor,  and  hanging  up  a  judge's 
salary  in  a  single  chandelier.  Not  that  I  ac 
cept  the  standard  of  absolute  necessity,  or  agree 
with  those  who  cry  out — "  Have  nothing  but 
what  is  absolutely  useful  /"  For,  if  the  universe 
had  been  cast  after  their  type,  there  would  have 
been  no  embroidery  on  the  wings  of  the  but 
terfly,  and  the  awful  summit  of  Mont  Blanc 


76        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


would  have  yielded  fire-wood.  There  is  an 
instinct  of  beauty  and  grace  implanted  in  our 
nature,  which  demands  elegance  and  even 
luxury,  and  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  do  not 
answer  every  purpose.  And,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  employment  which  these  accessories  of 
refinement  afford  for  thousands — for  I  have 
spoken  of  this  in  the  previous  series — the  most 
sturdy  utilitarian  is  not  consistent  with  his 
theory.  He  defers  to  the  social  condition 
around  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  sleeps 
on  a  bed  instead  of  a  bench,  and  wears  broad 
cloth  instead  of  untanned  sheepskin.  And, 
therefore,  others  might  say,  and  say  truly,  that 
a  good  deal  that  is  actually  superfluous  is  the 
fruit  of  certain  social  proprieties  which  cannot, 
with  any  consistency,  be  violated.  Our  style 
of  living  may  lawfully  run  from  the  bare 
necessaries  of  existence,  through  the  stages  of 
comfort  and  convenience,  even  into  luxury, 
according  to  our  condition  and  means.  But  in 
some  of  the  style  of  living  in  this  very  city, 
there  is  neither  good  taste,  social  propriety, 
nor  common  sense.  It  is  an  apoplectic  splen 
dor  ;  a  melo-dramatic  glitter ;  in  one  word,  a 


STRIFE    FOR    PRECEDENCE.     77 


vulgar  spirit  of  social  rivalry  blossoming  in 
lace,  brocade,  gilding,  and  fresco.  It  is  one 
way  of  getting  a  head  taller  than  another  upon 
this  democratic  level.  It  is  a  carpet  contest  for 
the  mastery  in  what  is  called  "  society."  And 
if  one  mourns  over  the  exuberant  selfishness 
that  lifts  its  pinnacles  out  of  this  dreary  sea  of 
hunger  and  despair,  and  wonders  that  so  many 
live  wrapped  in  the  idea  that  they  were  created 
merely  to  be  gratified;  he  can  hardly  help 
being  amused,  on  the  other  hand,  at  this 
fashionable  strife  for  precedence,  and  the 
methods  which  it  developes. 

But  enough  has  been  said  to  illustrate  the 
false  element  in  the  great  struggle  for  Human 
Precedence.  This  vicious  principle  is  most 
comprehensively  stated  in  the  proposition, 
that  there  is  no  substantial  ground  of 
supremacy  in  anything  that  is  merely  acci 
dental  or  external  to  a  man.  These  things 
may  sometimes  stand  as  symbols  of  true  merit 
and  greatness,  but  they  are  not  themselves 
proofs  of  precedence.  A  man's  wealth  may  be 
the  fruit  of  noble  energy  and  honest  toil,  and 
he  may  exert  a  wide  influence  by  virtue  of  that 


78        HUMANITY    i  N    T  n  E    CITY. 


intrinsic  ability  of  which  his  good  fortune  is 
the  sign.  Indeed,  the  more  I  study  the  world 
the  more  I  acquire  a  respect  for  these  kings  of 
enterprise — these  heroes  of  practical  effort — 
who,  feeling  that  they  have  been  sent  into  the 
world  to  do  something,  do  not  fold  their  hands 
and  shut  their  eyes  in  ideal  dreams,  or  stumble 
at  discrepancies,  but  lay  hold  of  what  lies 
about  them — rough  stone,  timber,  iron,  brass, 
— and  become  what  it  is  really  a  noble  com 
pliment  to  say  of  any  man — "  the  architects  of 
their  own  fortune."  I  have  great  respect  for 
these  men  who  drive  the  wheels,  and  kindle 
the  furnaces,  and  launch  the  ships,  and  build 
the  edifices,  and  keep  this  sea  of  every-day 
action  perpetually  agitated  by  the  keels  oi 
their  endeavor.  Their  claims  to  precedence, 
however,  consist  not  in  their  wealth,  but  in 
that  which  accumulates  the  wealth.  But  the 
man  who  rests  merely  upon  what  he  7ias, 
occupies  no  substantial  ground  of  supremacy. 
And  if  this  is  the  case  with  those  whose  claim 
hangs  merely  upon  what  they  are  worth  in 
the  world  of  money,  it  is  at  least  equally  so 
with  those  who  set  their  title  to  precedence 


STRIFE    FOR    PRECEDENCE.      T9 


npon  their  style  of  dress  or  living.  For  how 
uncertain  are  all  these  things !  depending 
upon  the  fickle  currents  of  fortune  ;  throwing 
the  honors  into  our  hands  to-day,  and  trans 
ferring  them  to  our  neighbor  to-morrow! 
How  tantalizing  this  conflict,  in  which  victory 
changes  with  the  fashion,  and  we  feel  weak  or 
strong  according  to  the  verdict  of  a  clique ! 
And  all  these  rivalries  and  envies  and  aspira 
tions,  what  a  confession  of  personal  feebleness 
they  really  are  !  How  slightly  a  true  man 
feels  them,  who  knows  that  he  is  not  mere 
silk  or  furniture,  and  never  frets  about  his 
place  in  the  world ;  but  just  slides  into  it  by 
the  gravitation  of  his  nature,  and  swings  there 
as  easily  as  a  star !  But  the  mere  leader  of 
fashion  has  no  genuine  claim  to  supremacy ;  at 
least,  no  abiding  assurance  of  it.  He  has  em 
broidered  his  title  upon  his  waistcoat,  and 
carries  his  worth  in  his  watch-chain ;  and  if  he 
is  allowed  any  real  precedence  for  this  it  is 
almost  a  moral  swindle, — a  way  of  obtaining 
goods  under  false  pretences.  But  without 
running  into  more  minute  discussion,  I  say 
again — that  there  is  no  substantial  ground  of 


80       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


supremacy  in  auglit  that  is  merely  accidental 
or  external ;  and  lie  who  rests  upon  such  claims 
stands  upon  a  pedestal  as  uncertain  as  it  is 
spurious. 

"  If  a  man  strive  for  masteries,  yet  is  he  not 
crowned,  except  he  strive  lawfully."  This 
was  the  old  rule  of  the  Grecian  games,  which 
would  not  permit  the  prize  to  be  gained  by 
any  unfair  or  incomplete  methods.  It  was 
applied  by  the  apostle  to  a  specific  work — the 
great  work  of  the  Christian  ministry.  But  it 
is  a  law  which  prevails  in  all  human  action. 
And,  while  it  suggests  that  spurious  prece 
dence  for  which  there  is  so  much  striving,  it 
also  indicates  the  fact  that  there  is  a  real 
difference  of  degree  among  men,  and  that 
there  are  proper  methods  of  obtaining 
supremacy. 

And,  as  I  look  around  in  the  populous  city, 
in  order  to  illustrate  the  grounds  of  this  lawful 
precedence,  I  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that 
there  are  men  who  occupy  the  higher  places 
by  ordinance  of  nature  so  to  speak ;  or,  more 
properly,  by  the  purpose  of  God.  It  is  a  fact 
in  nature  that  all  men  are  created  equal,  and 


STRIFE    F  o  B  P  R  E  c  E  D  E  N  c  E  .       81 

it  is  also  a  fact  in  nature  that  all  men  are  not 
equal.  All  men  are  created  equal  as  to  the 
essential  rights  and  privileges  of  humanity. 
They  have  a  claim  to  live ;  they  have  an 
impartial  share  in  the  Divine  Love ;  they  have 
a  right  to  liberty,  to  freedom  of  thought  and 
of  limb,  by  a  constitution  older  than  any  his 
torical  document,  drawn  up  in  the  court  of 
God's  decrees  and  authenticated  by  His  hand 
writing  in  the  soul.  Thus  far  all  men  are 
created  equal,  and,  if  it  turns  out  otherwise 
with  them,  it  ensues  from  what  is  made  by 
man,  not  what  is  commanded  by  Heaven. 
"But  so  far  as  quantity  of  nature  is  concerned 
— original  capacity  and  spiritual  gifts — men 
are  not  equal.  And  if  it  is  asked — •"  Why  are 
they  not  equal  ?"  I  answer,  it  is  by  appoint 
ment  of  the  same  Sovereign  Mind  which  has 
ordained  that  "  one  star  shall  differ  from  an 
other  star  in  glory."  But  each  form  of  being 
has  its  own  capacities,  and  if  these  are  filled 
the  moral  harmony  is  secured.  Through  all 
prevails  the  law  of  compensation,  balancing 
the  vicissitudes  of  experience.  And,  among 
these  diversities  of  human  capacity,  some  must 
4* 


82        HUMANITY    IN    T  n  E    G  i  T  Y  . 


of  necessity  occupy  the  highest  place — men 
whose  native  genius  carries  them  up  in  a 
splendid  orbit,  and  endows  them  with  control. 
And  the  world  at  large  always  acknowledges 
the  rectitude  of  this  appointment.  It  cherishes 
no  envy  toward  men  of  this  kind,  but  renders 
them  spontaneous  homage. 

But,  although  this  genius,  this  original 
power,  rises  to  a  natural  supremacy,  it  does 
not  involve  the  most  legitimate  element  of 
precedence.  There  is  no  real  ground  of  merit 
in  the  natural  talents  of  a  man,  any  more  than 
there  is  a  ground  of  merit  in  personal  beauty, 
or  family  descent.  He  has  nothing  but  what 
has  been  given  him — <the  five  talents  instead 
of  his  neighbor- s  one  talent — and,  so  long  as 
he  does  not  use  them  to  their  best  purpose, 
there  is  only  an  admirable  possibility,  no 
merit  of  achievement. 

And  all  genuine  merit — that  which  entitles 
one  to  some  ground  of  human  precedence — • 
comes  from  personal  achievement  in  life  ;  sub 
stantially,  from  the  stock  of  actual  benefit 
which  one  has  contributed  to  the  world,  and 
which  has  become  assimilated  to  his  own  spiri- 


S  T  B  I  F  K      FOB      P  B  E  C  E  D  B  N  C  E  .         83 


tual  nature.  The  ground  of  precedence — so 
far  as  it  is  lawful  for  man  to  think  of  anything 
like  precedence  at  all — is  not  in  outward  pos 
sessions,  not  in  gifts,  but  in  uses.  And  here  is 
thrown  open  a  "broad  and  noble  field,  depend 
ing  not  upon  genius  or  station,  but  upon  will, 
and  therefore  accessible  to  every  man.  Here 
is  an  arena  where  one  may  strive  lawfully, 
emulous  to  build  up  his  own  inner  nature, 
emulous  to  let  such  power  as  he  possesses  go 
out  in  blessings  for  the  world.  A  field  for  all 
of  us,  my  friends,  right  here  in  the  dense  city, 
amidst  the  hurrying  feet,  the  clang  of  machi 
nery,  and  the  roar  of  wheels.  And  the  con 
dition  of  the  game  is,  not  large  capacity  but 
good  purpose  and  loyal  endeavor ;  not  to  strive 
greatly  but  to  strive  lawfully. 

And,  I  observe  once  more,  that  the  real 
claim  to  precedence  is  not  eagerly  snatched  by 
us,  but  comes  to  us.  It  is  not  in  seeming  but 
in  being,  and  it  makes  no  essential  difference 
whether  the  world  confesses  it  or  not,  so  long 
as  we  actually  have  it,  working  in  our  con 
sciousness  of  duty  and  drawing  our  consolation 
from  inward  resources.  Here,  my  friend,  is 


84:        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


your  work — here  is  the  field  of  opportunity, 
which,  however  broad  and  rich  absolutely,  is 
for  you  great  and  pregnant  with  incalculable 
possibilities.  And  though  men  may  not  see 
its  best  results,  they  are  nevertheless  real,  and 
develop  in  your  own  soul  a  light  and  power, 
a  ground  and  fabric  of  precedence  that  cannot 
be  shaken,  and  will  never  vanish  away. 

And  yet,  to  a  large  extent,  the  world  does 
confess  this  true  supremacy.  For,  let  me  ask, 
who  among  these  crowds  of  citizens  are  really 
honored  ?  Not  those  who  are  so  eagerly  and 
vainly  striving  in  their  narrow,  conventional 
circle,  heedful  merely  of  the  rules  of  their 
own  little  game.  But  those  who  actually  fill 
an  honorable  place  in  life.  How  much  ac 
knowledged  dignity  is  there  in  that  man  who 
justs  accepts  his  station  and  makes  the  most  of 
it,  filling  it  with  patience  and  self-sacrifice  and 
achieving  the  victory  of  principle  and  affec 
tion!  How  much  genuine  nobleness  in  the 
quiet,  unconscious  discharge  of  duty !  The 
field  for  precedence  is  it  not  a  broad  one,  and 
close  at  hand  ?  And  is  there  no  alternative 
between  a  frivolous  and  outside  distinction,  and 


STRIFE    F  o  K    P  K  E  c  E  D  E  N  c  E  .      85 

some  great  theatre  of  action  large  enough  to 
fill  and  dazzle  the  world's  eye  ?  Daily,  right 
around  us,  there  are  occasions  that  summon 
up  all  the  energies  of  manhood  as  with  a 
trumpet-peal.  See  yonder!  where  the  confla 
gration,  bursting  through  marble  walls,  casts 
a  terrible  splendor  down  the  street  and  red 
dens  the  midnight  sky.  What  an  enemy  has 
broken  loose  among  us,  devouring  the 
achievements  of  human  skill  and  the  hopes  of 
enterprise  !  What  shall  stay  it  ?  With  a  tri 
umphant  shout  it  snaps  the  fetters  of  stone ;  it 
roars  with  victory  ;  it  bends  its  naming  crest 
towards  peaceful  homes  where  men  and 
mothers  and  babes  lie  in  unconscious  slumber. 
The  bell  beats ;  and  what  old  bugle-strain, 
what  pibroch,  what  rattling  drum,  ever 
sounded  a  more  perilous  call  ?  And  on  what 
battle-field  that  you  have  read  of  was  there 
ever  displayed  a  loftier  heroism,  a  more 
dauntless  energy,  than  that  man  displays  who, 
with  the  unconscious  courage  of  duty,  plunges 
into  the  furnace,  mounts  the  quivering  walls, 
and,  making  his  own  body  a  barrier  between 
his  fellow-men  and  the  flame,  stands  there 


86  H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      IN     T  II  E      C  I  T  Y  . 


scorched,  bruised,  bleeding,  and  beats  the 
red  terror  back  and  beats  it  down,  with  that 
irresistible  energy  which  always  springs 
from  the  human  will  bent  upon  a  noble 
purpose  ? 

And  so,  in  other  forms,  more  quiet  and 
more  sacred,  where  the  anticipation  of  public 
applause  does  not  furnish  its  motive,  men  are 
exercising  a  heroism,  and  working  achieve 
ments,  that  make  dim  and  pale  the  trophies 
that  are  plucked  from  fields  of  war  and  in 
lists  of  glittering  renown.  And  when  these 
things  are  known  the  hearts  of  men  render  a 
spontaneous  honor,  and  admit  the  genuine 
titles  of  supremacy.  Yet,  if  this  true  achieve 
ment  in  life  is  not  known  or  confessed  by  the 
world,  its  results  really  exist,  and  impart 
their  inalienable  strength  and  blessing  to  the 
soul,  while  as  the  grounds  of  false  supremacy 
dissolve  all  gives  way. 

And,  my  friends,  the  tendency  of  things  is 
to  bring  out  more  and  more  these  real  claims 
to  human  precedence,  and  to  throw  all 
spurious  titles  into  the  shade.  This  is  the 
radical  purport  of  true  democracy,  which  I 


S  T  K  I  F  E     F  O  li      P  11  E  C  E  D  E  N  O  E  .        87 


take  to  be  the  social  synonym  of  Christianity. 
I  have  shown  what  inconsistencies  and  false 
distinctions  swarm  here  in  onr  midst,  under 
the  profession  of  republican  equality.  This, 
however,  is  because  names  are  not  things.  I 
don't  call  that  "  democracy  "  which  is  simply 
the  domineering  spirit  of  self-exaltation  in  a 
new  shape.  For  there  is  no  essential  difference 
whether  we  call  the  social  order  a  monarchy 
or  a  commonwealth  ;  whether  its  leading  men 
are  Charles  and  Louis,  or  Robespierre  and 
Cromwell.  If  wre  must  have  the  old  social 
fallacies,  they  appear  more  attractive  with  the 
old  symbols.  In  that  case,  I  wrould  rather  not 
have  them  changed.  For,  when  I  look  merely 
at  the  sentimental  side  of  things,  I  feel  sorry 
when  the  so-called  "Royal  Martyr,"  with  a 
dignity  which  contrasts  with  his  past  conduct, 
stretches  his  head  upon  the  block ;  or  when  the 
pitiless  insults  of  a  Parisian  mob  are  hurled  up 
on  the  head  of  the  beautiful  Marie  Antoinette. 
A  poetic  regret  and  enthusiasm  is  awakened 
by  the  associations  that  cluster  about  the 
Golden  Lion  and  the  Bourbon  Lilies.  And, 
when  I  turn  to  those  grim  Ironsides,  or  those 


88        HUMANITY   IN   THE   CITY. 


frantic  Jacobins,  the  work  they  are  doing 
looks  savage  enough.  But,  with  a  more  dis 
criminating  vision,  I  perceive  that  that  rude 
popular  storm,  which  desolates  palaces  and 
shatters  crowns,  embosoms  a  rectifying  process 
which,  tumbling  all  false  distinctions  from 
their  pedestals,  shall  by-and-by  heave  up  the 
platform  of  social  justice,  and  reveal  the  true 
dignity  of  man.  The  essential  work  of  demo 
cracy  is  not  the  destruction  of  forms  ;  is  not 
the  giant  arm  of  revolution,  striking  the  hours 
of  human  progress  by  the  crash  of  falling 
thrones.  But  its  great  work  is  construction — 
is  in  changing  the  very  spirit  of  institutions — • 
and  it  asserts  its  legitimacy  and  bases  its 
claims  upon  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
human  soul. 

Therefore,  I  regard  these  spurious  claims  to 
precedence — these  endeavors  after  social  dis 
tinction  by  virtue  of  riches,  and  equipage,  and 
wardrobes — -as  only  evidences  of  a  transition- 
state.  Men,  letting  go  the  feudal  forms,  and 
still  assuming  that  there  is  some  ground  of 
human  precedence,  as  there  really  is,  have 
adopted  these  false  expressions  of  it.  They 


STRIFE    FOR    PRECEDENCE.     89 


will  in  turn  pass  away,  and  give  place  to  more 
genuine  methods. 

But  let  it  be  remembered,  that  these  false 
forms  of  precedence  are  not  only  inconsistent 
with  our  social  professions  and  institutions, 
but  they  are  futile  because  they  are  contrary 
to  the  Divine  Law.  Our  endeavors  in  life"1 
have  a  twofold  operation,  and  we  must  count 
not  only  their  effect  upon  others  but  their  re 
action  upon  the  fabric  of  our  own  inner  being. 
For,  whatever  honor  men  may  attribute  to  us, 
we  know  that  there  is  no  real,  substantial 
ground  of  supremacy  except  in  the  excellence 
and  power  of  our  own  spiritual  nature.  And 
this  is  acquired  not  in  ostentatious  and  selfish 
striving,  but  when  self  is  least  thought  of;  in 
the  calm  work  of  duty,  and  when  all  concep 
tion  of  human  merit  fades  into  the  Glory  of 
God.  And  this  is  the  great  end  to  be  desired 
— this  strength  and  exaltation  of  the  soul. 

O 

Tliis  imparts  the  profoundest  significance  to 
that  great  life-struggle  which  goes  on  in  these 
crowded  streets.  The  city !  what  is  it  but  a 
vast  amphitheatre,  filled  with  racers,  with 
charioteers,  with  eager  competitors ;  surround- 


90        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


ed  by  an  unseen  and  awful  array  of  witnesses  ? 
And  here,  daily,  the  lists  are  opened,  and  men 
contend  for  success,  for  station,  for  power. 
But  these  are  meretricious  and  perishable 
awards.  The  real  prize  is  a  spiritual  gain,  a 
crown  that  "  fadeth  not  away."  And,  if  we 
comprehend  the  great  purpose  of  existence  at 
all — if  we  look  with  any  eagerness  to  its 
intrinsic  issues  and  its  final  result;  we  shall 
heed  that  decree  of  Divine  Wisdom  and  Jus 
tice  that  comes  down  to  us  through  all  the 
vicissitude  of  life — through  all  the  hurry  and 
turmoil  and  contention.  "  If  a  man  strive  for 
masteries,  yet  is  he  not  crowned,  except  he 
strive  lawfully." 


THE  SYMBOLS  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 


DISCOURSE  IV. 

THE  SYMBOLS  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 

Thou  art  a  great  people,  and  hast  great  power. 

JOSHUA,  xvii.  17. 

THESE  words,  originally  addressed  by  tlie 
Hebrew  Leader  to  the  children  of  Joseph — 
the  tribes  of  Ephraim  and  IVIanasseh — have 
been  applicable  to  many  nations  which,  since 
that  time,  have  risen,  and  flourished,  and  fallen. 
But  when  we  consider  the  circumstances  of  its 
origin,  its  marvellous  growth  in  all  the  attri 
butes  of  civilization,  and  especially  the  im 
mense  possibilities  which  it  involves  ;  without 
even  being  chargeable  with  a  natural  vanity, 
we  may  say,  that  to  no  country  on  the  face  ol 
the  earth  have  they  ever  been  more  fitted  than 
to  this.  For,  my  friends,  we  know  that  it  is  a 
dictate  of  our  nature  to  magnify  that  which  is 
our  own.  However  insignificant  it  really  is, 


94:        HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


man  spreads  an  ideal  glory  over  the  land  of  his 
birth.  Perhaps  its  historical  importance  com 
pensates  for  its  geographical  narrowness,  or 
its  material  poverty  is  hidden  by  its  intellec 
tual  wealth.  From  its  stock  of  mighty  men — 
its  heroes,  and  bards,  and  sages — who  have 
brightened  the  roll  of  fame ;  or  from  its  me 
morable  battle-fields,  on  rude  heath  and  in 
mountain  defile;  or  from  its  achievements 
which  have  swelled  the  tides  of  human  enter 
prise,  and  made  the  world  its  debtor ;  he  draws 
the  inspiration,  he  carries  away  the  conviction 
of  greatness — so  that  wherever  its  emblems 
come  before  his  eyes,  they  touch  the  deep 
springs  of  reverence  and  pride.  ~Nox  let  us 
condemn  this  feeling  as  merely  a  selfish  and 
exaggerating  one.  This  spirit  of  nationality 
exists  for  wise  purposes,  embosoms  the  richest 
elements  of  loyalty  and  faith,  and  is  one  of 
those  profound  sentiments  of  our  nature  that 
cannot  be  driven  out  by  any  process  of  logic. 

But,  if  a  nation  really  inherits  the  descrip 
tion  in  the  text,  it  must  possess  something 
more  than  an  illustrious  history  and  an  ideal 
glory.  We  must  determine  its  greatness  by 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    REPUBLIC.    95 


its  symbols  ;  yet  these  must  be  not  merely 
signs  of  things,  but  instruments  of  achieve 
ment;  not  merely  the  illustrations  of  dead 
works  or  patriotic  enthusiasm,  but  the  agents 
of  actual  power  and  of  living  performance. 
E~ow,  in  looking  over  the  world  at  the  present 
time,  there  are  other  nations  to  which  the 
words  of  Joshua  might- be  applied  as  well  as 
to  our  own,  and  with  as  little  assumption  of 
national  vanity.  Other  people  are  great  and 
have  great  power,  by  virtue  of  political  im 
portance,  vast  possessions,  and  strong  institu 
tions.  To  say  nothing  of  the  rest,  considei 
that  huge  domain  which  at  this  hour  confronts 
the  troubled  principalities  of  Europe.  It 
stretches  itself  out  over  three  continents.  The 
waves  of  three  oceans  chafe  against  its  shaggy 
sides.  The  energies  of  innumerable  tribes  are 
throbbing  in  its  breast.  It  clasps  regions  yet 
raw  in  history  as  well  as  those  that  are  grey 
with  tradition,  and  incloses  in  one  empire  the 
bones  of  the  Siberian  mammoth  and  the  valleys 
of  Circassian  flowers.  And  it  is  great  not  only 
by  geographical  extent,  but  by  political  pur 
pose — great  by  the  idea  which  is  involved 


06          H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      IN      THE      C  I  T  Y . 


with  its  destiny — an  idea  austere  as  the  cli 
mate,  tremendous  as  the  forces,  indomitable 
as  the  will  of  the  gigantic  north.  It  would 
set  the  inheritance  of  the  Byzantine  Emperors 
in  the  diadem  of  Peter  the  Great.  It  would 
make  the  Sea  of  Marmara  and  the  ridges  of 
the  Caucasus,  paths  to  illimitable  empire  and 
uncompromising  despotism.  It  moves  down 
the  map  of  the  world,  as  a  glacier  moves  down 
the  Alps,  patient  and  relentless,  startling  the 
jealous  rivals  that  watch  its  course,  and  grant 
ing  contemptuous  peace  to  the  allies  that  shiver 
in  its  shadow. 

In  considering,  therefore,  the  symbols  which 
prove  that  we  also  are  a  great  people,  having 
great  power,  we  should  select  those  which 
indicate  the  possession  of  a  peculiar  power. 
This  peculiarity  is  not  in  our  geographical 
extent  or  material  greatness.  But  it  is,  I 
think,  in  our  institutions,  in  the  tendency  of 
our  national  ideas,  and  in  the  legitimate  result 
of  these.  It  is  in  conceptions  and  elements 
the  direct  opposite  of  those  that  work  in  the 
destiny  of  the  mighty  empire  just  referred  to 
— and  for  this  reason  I  have  referred  to  it. 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    REPUBLIC.     97 


In  taking  up  a  subject,  then,  which  is  espe 
cially  connect^  with  the  conditions  of  hu 
manity  in  die  city,  because  in  the  city  the , 
conception  of  a  people — of  a  public — is  espe 
cially  illustrated,  let* us  inquire — What  are 
the  symbols  of  our  republic ;  the  signs  and 
agents  of  our  greatness  as  a  nation  ?  And,  for 
the  sake  of  avoiding  too  many  specifications. 
I  propose  to  consider  these  under  two  or  three 
general  classes. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  would  select  as  a 
symbol  of  the  Republic,  Whatever  represents 
tlie  privilege  of  Free  Thought.  As  to  whatever 
gives  full  play  to  the  intellect,  whatever 
diffuses  the  intelligence,  whatever  w^akes 
up  and  assists  the  entire  spiritual  nature  of 
individuals  and  communities,  I  think  there  is 
really  more  opportunity  here  than  anywhere 
else  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  And,  as  a  sign 
and  instrument  of  this,  I  would  point  to  some 
District  School-house;  rough,  weather- worn, 
standing  in  some  bleak  corner  of  New  York 
or  New  Hampshire;  through  whose  closed 
windows  the  passer-by  catches  the  confused 
hum  of  recitation,  or  at  whose  door  he  sees 
5 


98       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


children  of  all  conditions  mingling  in  motley 
play.  Of  all  conditions,  so  far  as  external 
peculiarities  go ;  for  the  laws  of  nature  and  the 
ordinances  of  Providence  cannot  be  dispensed 
with  even  here ;  bnt  of  one  condition  as  the 
recognized  possessors  of  immortal  mind.  Those 
who  have  helped  mould  the  Republic  have 
clearly  seen  that,  although  intelligence  is  not 
the  foundation  of  national  greatness — for  there 
is  something  deeper  than  that — still  it  is  the 
discerning  and  directing  power  upon  which 
depends  the  right  use  even  of  moral  elements. 
They  have  scouted  the  notion  that  there  is  any 
ultimate  evil  in  diffused  knowledge ;  any  such 
thing  as  "a  dangerous  truth;"  and  have 
affirmed  that  the  best  way  to  winnow  the  false 
from  the  true,  is  to  equip  and  set  a-going  the 
intellectual  machine  by  which  God  has  or 
dained  that  the  work  shall  be  done.  It  has 
been  felt,  that,  if  the  State  can  properly 
extend  its  influence  anywhere  beyond  the 
restrictive  limits  of  evil,  or  the  punishment  ol 
overt  wrong;  if  anywhere  it  may  exercise  a 
positive  ministration  for  good ;  it  is  here, 
where  it  does  not  interfere  on  the  one  hand 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    HE  PUBLIC.     99 


with  those  outward  pursuits  which  should  be 
left  to  individual  choice  and  aptitude,  nor  on 
the  other,  with  those  inward  sanctities  which 
pertain  to  conscience  and  to  God ;  it  is  here, 
in  that  region  of  our  personality  from  which 
we  can  best  discern  our  duty  and  fill  our 
place.  For  the  intellect  is  the  most  neutral  of 
all  our  qualities.  Man  is  swayed  by  the 
animal  propensities  of  his  nature ;  he  is  swayed 
by  the  moral  and  religious  elements  of  his 
nature ;  but  the  intellect,  by  itself,  is  not  a 
motive  power.  It  is  a  light;  and  no  one  will 
object  to  its  being  kindled  except  those  who, 
by  that  objection,  virtually  confess  that  they 
fear  the  light.  '  And  this  work  of  kindling  is 
just  what  the  state  purposes  to  do  for  a  child; 
leaving  his  religious  convictions  to  such  helps 
as  conscience  has  chosen,  and  his  position  in 
life  to  the  decision  of  circumstances.  And 
there  is  no  wTay  in  which  it  can  show  so  much 
impartiality,  and  exercise  practically  the  most 
essential  conception  of  freedom.  For  thus,  as 
I  have  already  said,  it  recognizes  a  common 
inheritance — something  which  all  have — the 
possession  of  mind — something  which  is  of 


100     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


more  importance  than  any  external  condition, 
for  it  influences  external  condition;  (whoever 
saw  an  educated  community  of  wliicli  anything 
like  a  large  fraction  were  paupers  and  crim 
inals  ?)  something  on  which  rests  the  claim  of 
human  freedom ;  for  the  charter  of  man's 
liberty  is  in  his  soul,  not  his  estate.  It  says  to 
the  poorest  child — "  You  are  rich  in  this  one 
endowment,  before  which  all  external  posses 
sions  grow  dim.  ~No  piled-up  wealth,  no  social 
station,  no  throne,  reaches  as  high  as  that 
spiritual  plane  upon  which  every  human  being 
stands  by  virtue  of  his  humanity;  and  from 
that  plane,  mingling  now  in  the  Common 
School  with  the  lowliest  and  the  lordliest,  we 
give  you  the  opportunity  to  ascend  as  high  as 
you  may.  We  put  into  your  hands  the  key 
of  knowledge;  leaving  your  religious  convic 
tions,  with  which  we  dare  not  interfere,  to  your 
chosen  guides.  So  far  as  the  intellectual  path 
may  lead,  it  is  open  to  you. — Go  free !"  And 
when  we  consider  the  great  principles  which 
are  thus  practically  confessed ;  when  we  con 
sider  the  vast  consequences  which  grow  out  of 
this ;  I  think  that  little  District  School-house 


S  T  M  T,  O  L  S     O  F     T  II  K      REPUBLIC.    101 


dilates,  grows  splendid,  makes  our  hearts  beat 
with  admiration  and  gratitude,  makes  us  re 
solve  that  at  all  events,  that  must  stand ;  for, 
indeed,  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  symbols  of  the 
Republic — a  sign  and  an  instrument  of  a  great 
people,  having  great  power. 

Or,  if  you  would  behold  another  of  these 
symbols,  go  through  this  city,  and  pause 
wherever  you  hear  the  rumbling  of  the  Print 
ing-Press.  As  I  have  dwelt  upon  the  charac 
teristics  of  this  great  power  in  another  place, 
I  only  allude  to  it  here  as  a  vehicle  of  that 
expression  which  is  so  essential  to  all  genuine 
freedom  of  thought.  Mere  education  is  no 
evidence  of  this  freedom.  It  may  be  made, 
it  has  been  made  in  one  of  the  most  intelligent 
but  despotic  countries  in  Europe,  an  instru 
ment  for  drilling  the  human  mind  into  an 
absolute  routine  of  state  policy.  Mere  liberty 
of  speculation  is  nothing,  though  it  has  the 
boundless  firmament  of  abstraction  for  its  own, 
so  long  as  it  is  not  allowed  to  strike  the  solid 
ground  of  fact  or  touch  one  organized  abuse. 
Let  us  be  thankful  for  a  free-press — the  electric 
tongue  of  thought,  which  at  every  stroke  is  felt 


102     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


throughout  a  continent,  which  no  dictator  dares 
to  chain,  and  over  whose  issues  no  censor  sits 
in  judgment — or  only  that  great  censor,  public 
opinion.  Everybody  is  aware  of  its  evil  as 
well  as  its  good — the  errors,  the  crudities,  the 
abominations  it  sends  out.  But  we  must 
remember  that  it  is  only  the  representative,  the 
voice,  of  elements  that  actually  exist  in  human 
minds  and  bosoms ;  and,  surely,  it  is  better 
that  they  should  come  out  into  the  free  air,  and 
be  sprinkled  by  the  chloride  of  truth,  than  to 
work  darkly  and  infectiously  out  of  sight.  It  is 
the  hidden,  not  the  open  evil  that  is  dan 
gerous. 

Or,  still  again,  you  might  have  seen  a  true 
symbol  of  the  Republic  in  the  spectacle  which 
has  been  presented  this  very  day — the  spec 
tacle  of  a  Free  Worship.  The  great  stream  of 
religious  impulse  has  poured  through  these 
streets,  and  separated  into  its  rills  of  distinctive 
opinion,  without  trepidation  and  without  chal 
lenge.  Every  man  has  had  the  opportunity 
to  commune  with  his  God,  and  approach  the 
Cross  of  his  Redeemer,  with  no  established 
barriers  between.  Neither  the  cathedral  nor 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE  REPUBLIC.  103 


the  chapel  rest  upon  the  patronage  of  the  state, 
but  in  the  deep  foundations  of  individual  con 
viction.  To  be  sure,  here  and  there,  there  is 
a  little  assumption ;  but  it  is  dramatic  rather 
than  substantial,  and  does  not  amount  to  much. 
Here  and  there  breaks  out  an  unjust  prejudice 
or  a  spiteful  calumny,  but  it  shames  the  source 
more  than  the  object,  and  soon  dies  away  in 
the  atmosphere  of  tolerance  and  investigation. 
It  looks  doubtful  sometimes,  but  I  verily 
believe  that  the  real  spirit,  as  well  as  the  mere 
form  of  Religious  equality,  is  beginning  to 
prevail.  Every  day,  it  is  more  and  more  prac 
tically  acknowledged  that  Christianity  is  pro- 
founder  than  any  name,  and  exists  under 
strange  and  despised  names  ;  that  there  really 
is  decent  observance  in  every  church,  and  holy 
living  in  every  communion ;  and  a  man  finds 
that  his  neighbor  has  the  same  essence  of  right 
eousness  as  himself,  though  he  has  not  half  so 
many  links  in  his  creed.  And  something  more 
than  tolerance  grows  out  of  this  practical 
liberty.  It  is  not  easy  to  measure  the  moral 
sincerity,  the  moral  principle,  which  results 
from  it ;  which  is  far  more  precious  than  mere 


104:     HUMANITY    IN    T  IT  E    CITY. 


intelligence;   which  is  the  perennial  spring 
and  assurance  of  national  welfare. 

But  I  proceed  to  observe,  in  the  second 
place,  that  we  may  select  as  a  symbol  of  the 
Republic — a  sign  and  an  instrument  of  a  great 
people,  having  great  power — whatever  illus 
trates  the  principle  of  Political  Equality.  I 
am  speaking,  at  present,  not  of  our  deficiencies, 
but  of  our  possessions  ;  not  of  the  instances  in 
which  this  doctrine  of  equality  is  practically 
contradicted,  but  of  those  in  which  it  is  prac 
tically  acknowledged.  The  sovereignty  of 
every  man  is  a  fundamental  principle  in  our 
institutions  ;  it  is  essential  to  the  conception  of 
a  Republic  ;  and  so  far  as  it  is  legitimately  a 
Republic,  we  shall  find  this  principle  in  opera 
tion.  And,  looking  around  for  some  extant 
symbol  of  this,  let  me  select  that  which  is  the 
object  of  so  much  strife  and  agitation — the 
Presidential  Chair.  I  do  not,  by  any  means, 
consider  this  the  most  comfortable  seat  in  the 
nation,  or  that  the  most  deserving  man  is  sure 
to  get  there ;  but,  as  an  emblem,  I  believe  it 
illustrates  the  noblest  privileges,  and  the 
proudest  supremacy,  on  the  face  of  the  globe. 


SYMBOLS   OF   THE   REPUBLIC.  105 


And  I  refer  to  it  as  a  possibility  for  the  poorest 
and  humblest  child  in  the  land.  N~o  heredi 
tary  gallery  leads  to  it — only  the  broad  road 
of  the  people.  And,  as  the  highest  seat  in  the 
nation,  it  illustrates  all  the  honors  of  the 
nation.  They  are  possible  to  anybody.  And 
I  trust  the  time  has  not  yet  arrived  when  this 
can  be  said  only  by  way  of  satire ;  can  be  true 
only  because  the  waves  of  political  corruption 
carry  the  meanest  and  unworthiest  into  office  ; 
but  as  a  grand  fact,  a  fact  with  which  arc 
involved  the  springs  of  our  national  greatness 
and  power,  it  may  be  said  that  here  there  are 
no  barriers  of  caste,  no  terms  of  descent,  no 
depths  so  low  that  enterprise  cannot  rise  out 
of  them,  no  heights  so  exalted  that  genius 
cannot  attain  them  ;  for,  on  a  platform  as  level 
to  the  peasant's  threshold  as  to  the  nabob's 
door,  stand  the  judge's  bench,  the  senator's 
seat,  and  the  President's  chair. 

As  another  symbol  of  this  political  equality, 
I  would  name  the  Ballot-Box.  I  am  aware 
that  this  is  not  everywhere  a  consistent 
symbol;  but  to  a  large  degree  it  is  so.  I 
know  what  miserable  associations  cluster 
5* 


106     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


around  this  instrument  of  popular  power.  I 
know  that  the  arena  in  which  it  stands  is 
trodden  into  mire  by  the  feet  of  reckless 
ambition  and  selfish  greed.  The  wire-pulling 
and  the  bribing,  the  pitiful  truckling  and  the 
grotesque  compromises,  the  exaggeration  and 
the  detraction,  the  rnelo-dramatic  issues  and 
the  sham  patriotism,  the  party  Thatch-words 
and  the  party  nick-names,  the  schemes  of  the 
few  paraded  as  the  will  of  the  many,  the 
elevation  of  men  whose  only  worth  is  in  the 
votes  they  command — vile  men,  whose  hands 
you  would  not  grasp  in  friendship,  whose 
presence  you  would  not  tolerate  by  your  fire 
side — incompetent  men,  whose  fitness  is  not 
in  their  capacity  as  functionaries,  or  legis 
lators,  but  as  organ  pipes ;  the  snatching  at 
the  slices  and  offal  of  office,  the  intemperance 
and  the  violence,  the  finesse  and  the  falsehood, 
the  gin  and  the  glory ;  these  are  indeed  but 
too  closely  identified  with  that  political  agita 
tion  which  circles  around  the  Ballot-Box. 
But,  after  all,  they  are  not  essential  to  it. 
They  are  only  the  masks  of  a  genuine  grand 
eur  and  importance.  For  it  is  a  grand  thing 


S  Y  M  B  O  L  f;      O  F     T  II  E     11  E  P  II  B  L  I  C  .    107 


— something  which  involves  profound  doc 
trines  of  Right — something  which  has  cost 
ages  of  effort  and  sacrifice — -it  is  a  grand  thing 
that  here,  at  last,  each  voter  has  just  the 
weight  of  one  man ;  no  more,  no  less ;  and 
the  weakest,  by  virtue  of  his  recognized  man 
hood,  is  as  strong  as  the  mightiest.  And 
consider,  for  a  moment,  what  it  is  to  cast  a 
vote.  It  is  the  token  of  inestimable  privileges, 
and  involves  the  responsibilities  of  an  heredi 
tary  trust.  It  has  passed  into  your  hands  as  a 
right,  reaped  from  fields  of  suffering  and  blood. 
The  grandeur  of  History  is  represented  in 
your  act.  Men  have  wrought  with  pen  and 
tongue,  and  pined  in  dungeons,  and  died  011 
scaffolds,  that  you  might  obtain  this  symbol 
of  freedom,  and  enjoy  this  consciousness  of  a 
sacred  individuality.  To  the  ballot  have  been 
transmitted,  as  it  were,  the  dignity  of  the 
sceptre  and  the  potency  of  the  sword.  And 
that  which  is  so  potent  as  a  right,  is  also 
pregnant  as  a  duty  ;  a  duty  for  the  present 
and  for  the  future.  If  you  will,  that  folded 
leaf  becomes  a  tongue  of  justice,  a  voice  of 
order,  a  force  of  imperial  law ;  securing  rights, 


108     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


abolishing  abuses,  erecting  new  institutions  of 
truth  and  love.  And,  however  you  will,  it  is 
the  expression  of  a  solemn  responsibility,  the 
exercise  of  an  immeasurable  power  for  good 
or  for  evil,  now  and  hereafter.  It  is  the 
medium  through  which  you  act  upon  your 
country — the  organic  nerve  which  incor 
porates  you  with  its  life  and  welfare.  There 
is  no  agent  with  which  the  possibilities  of  the 
Republic  are  more  intimately  involved,  none 
upon  which  we  can  fall  back  witli  more 
confidence,  than  the  Ballot-Box. 

But  there  is  a  symbol  which  represents  the 
power  and  greatness  of  a  Republic  more 
significantly  than  all  the  rest,  and  is  compre 
hensive  of  all  the  rest.  It  is  the  fruit  of 
unfettered  thought  and  political  equality,  of 
intelligence  and  virtue,  of  private  sovereignty 
and  public  duty — it  is  a  free,  true,  harmo 
nious  Man.  As  the  crown  or  the  sceptre 
is  the  symbol  of  a  Monarchy  ;  as  heraldic 
honors  are  the  symbols  of  an  Oligarchy ;  so, 
I  repeat,  the  most  expressive  symbol  of  a 
Republic  is  a  man — a  man  free  in  limb  and 
soul,  a  man  intelligent  and  self-governed,  a 


SYMBOLS.   OF  THE    REPUBLIC.    109 


man  whose  spiritual  vision  is  clear,  and  in 
whose  breast  the  voice  of  conscience  is  per 
emptory,  with  whom  the  conception  of  duties 
is  deeper  even  than  the  conception  of  rights ; 
in  short,  a  man  who  embodies  all  the  elements, 
and  represents  to  the  world  the  best  results 
of  Liberty.  Laws  are  nothing,  institutions  are 
nothing,  national  power  and  greatness  are 
nothing,  save  as  they  assist  the  Moral  purpose 
of  God  in  the  development  of  humanity.  To 
this  test  we  must  bring  the  symbols  of  the 
Republic,  and  judge  whether  they  are  fitting 
and  consistent.  !STo  matter  what  else  they 
accomplish,  no  matter  what  else  they  signify, 
if  they  do  not  serve  this  end  they  are  either 
incomplete  instruments,  or  vain  forms.  For, 
Man  is  of  more  worth  than  Institutions ; 
Religion  is  greater  than  politics;  and  the 
designs  of  Providence  are  wider  than  the 
cycles  of  National  destiny. 

I  turn,  then,  to  the  signs  of  our  own  national 
greatness  ;  I  turn  to  these  symbols  of  spiritual 
freedom  and  political  equality ;  and  I  ask — • 
how  completely  do  they  develop  this  most 
significant  symbol  of  all — how  completely  do 


110      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


they  serve  the  purposes  of  God  in  History— 
by  securing  the  welfare,  the  culture,  the  moral 
elevation  of  humanity?  And  the  reply  is — • 
that,  by  our  institutions  and  our  endeavors, 
these  ends  have  been  served  in  various  ways. 
There  is  here,  to-day,  a  more  enlightened,  free, 
self-governed  humanity — and  we  say  it  with 
out  arrogance — than  anywhere  else  on  the 
globe.  Our  benefits  are  of  the  kind  that  arc 
not  realized,  because  they  are  so  great  and 
familiar — like  the  light  and  the  air ;  but  take 
them  away,  or  transfer  us  to  some  other  atmo 
sphere,  and  how  we  should  miss  them,  and 
pine  and  dwindle !  Let  no  man,  in  his  zeal 
for  bold  rebuke  or  needed  reform,  overlook 
what  has  been  done,  and  what  is  enjoyed 
here,  as  to  the  noblest  results  of  national 
greatness  and  power. 

But  every  sincere  man  must  say  likewise 
that,  with  us,  the  possibilities  are  far  greater 
than  the  performance  •  that  these  symbols  are 
the  splendid  tokens  of  what  may  be,  rather 
than  what  is.  And,  that  I  may  bring  this 
discourse  to  a  practical  conclusion,  let  me  say 
that  two  things,  at  least,  are  necessary  to  con- 


SYMBOLS    OF   T  H  E    E  E  p  u  B  L  i  c  .  Ill 


vert  these  possibilities  into  the  noblest  achieve 
ment. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  essential  that  every 
citizen  of  the  republic  should  recognize  his 
own  manhood  ;  the  sacredness  of  his  own  per 
sonality  ;  and  should  recognize  this  especially 
in  relation  to  his  duties,  which  are  inextricably 
involved  with  his  rights.  For  here  it  is  true 
in  a  special  sense,  that  the  mass  is  but  an 
aggregate  of  personalities — that  public  sin  is 
but  the  projection  of  your  sin  and  mine.  A 
man  will  often  say  that  he  is  responsible  to  his 
country,  and  responsible  to  his  constituents  ; 
but  upon  no  claim,  by  no  sophistry,  should  he 
suffer  himself  to  forget  that  he  is  also  responsi 
ble  to  his  God.  He  does  forget  this,  when  he 
acts  for  political  interests,  and  as  one  of  a 
party,  as  he  never  would  act  in  his  private 
affairs.  And  does  he  suppose  that  there  is  a 
corporate  vice,  or  virtue,  differing  from  his 
private  vice  or  virtue,  as  a  gentleman's  purse 
differs  from  the  public  fund  ?  There  is  no 
such  distinction  in  moral  qualities.  It  is  your 
own  coin  that  helps  swell  the  amount ;  it  bears 
your. stamp,  and  you  are  responsible  for  the 


112      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


product.  If  the  party  lies,  then  you  are  guilty 
of  falsehood.  If  the  party — as  is  very  likely- 
does  a  mean  thing,  then  you  do  it.  It  is  surely 
so,  so  far  as  you  are  one  of  the  party,  and  go 
with  it  in  its  action.  God  does  not  take  ac 
count  of  parties  ;  party  names  are  not  known 
in  that  court  of  Divine  Judgment ;  but  your 
name  and  mine  are  on  the  books  there.  There 
is  no  such  thing — and  this  is  true,  perhaps,  in 
more  senses  than  one — there  is  no  such  thing  as 
a  party  conscience.  It  is  individual  conscience 
that  is  implicated.  Party !  Party  !  Ah !  my 
friends,  here  is  the  influence  which,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  balks  and  falsifies  many  of  these 
glorious  symbols.  Men  rally  round  musty 
epithets.  They  take  up  issues  which  have  no 
more  relation  to  the  deep,  vital,  throbbing 
interest  of  the  time,  than  they  have  to  the 
fashions  of  our  grandfathers.  They  parade 
high-sounding  principles  to  cover  selfish  ends ; 
interpret  the  Constitution  by  a  doctrine  of 
loaves  and  fishes ;  while  individual  independ 
ence  and  private  conviction  are  wThirled 
away  in  the  political  maelstrom,  and  the 
party-badge  is  reverenced  and  hugged  as  the 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    REPUBLIC.  113 


African  reverences  and  hugs  Ms  fetish.  And 
surely  it  is  a  case  for  congratulation,  when 
some  great,  exciting  question  breaks  out  and 
jars  these  conventional  idols,  and  so  sweeps 
and  shatters  these  party  organizations  and 
turns  them  topsy-turvy,  that  a  man  is  shaken 
out  of  his  harness,  does  not  know  exactly  what 
party  he  does  belong  to,  and  begins  to  feel  that 
he  has  a  soul  of  his  own .  I  am  not  denying 
the  use  and  the  necessity  of  parties  as  instru 
ments,  but  protest  against  them  as  ends,  espe 
cially  when  principle  is  smothered  under  their 
platforms,  and  they  absorb  the  moral  person 
ality  of  a  man. 

It  may  not  seem  so  strange  that  the  political 
field  should  so  often  be  the  field  of  a  lax  and 
depressed  morality,  when  we  consider  that 
here  is  the  great  theatre  where  human  ambi 
tion  struggles  for  its  aims;  here  are  enlisted 
the  strongest  passions  of  the  soul ;  here  throng 
some  of  its  fiercest  temptations ;  here  the 
stakes  played  for  are  the  kingdoms  of  this 
world,  and  the  glory  of  them.  And  this,  I 
suppose,  is  the  reason  why  the  most  authentic 
type  of  human  depravity  is  a  thoroughly 


114      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


unprincipled  politician.  Such  an  instance,  at 
least,  may  strike  us  more  forcibly,  because  we 
see  the  perversion  of  great  faculties,  and  capa 
bilities  are  contrasted  with  performance ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand  he  may  be  confirmed  in  his 
moral  bankruptcy  by  the  fact  that,  in  playing 
upon  the  passions  of  men  he  sees  the  worst 
side  of  humanity.  But,  surely,  there  have 
been  those  who  passed  this  ordeal,  and  came 
out  with  brighter  lustre ;  who  have  kept  the 
eye  of  conscience  elevated  above  the  ecliptic 
of  political  routine ;  who  have  made  politics 
identical  with  lofty  duties  and  great  principles ; 
whose  patriotism  was  not  a  clamorous  catch 
word,  but  a  breathing  inspiration,  a  silent 
heart-fire.  In  private  life  they  have  felt  the 
great  privilege  of  their  citizenship ;  the  mag 
nitude  of  the  obligation  which  bound  them  to 
virtue  and  to  consistency ;  while,  in  public 
life,  they  have  kept  their  trust  firm  as  steel, 
bright  as  gold ;  have  felt,  with  due  balance 
on  either  side,  the  beatings  of  the  popular 
heart  and  the  dictates  of  the  everlasting  Right ; 
and  in  themselves  have  represented  the  union 
of  liberty  and  law,  the  real  greatness  of  a 


SYMBOLS    OF   THE    REPUBLIC.   115 


nation.  Without  such  men,  the  nation  has  no 
greatness ;  for  its  significance  and  its  power 
are  in  the  moral  worth  of  its  citizens. 

The  second  condition  necessary  to  the  fulfil 
ment  of  the  great  results  indicated  by  these 
symbols,  is  consistent  action  upon  the  ideas 
that  constitute  the  basis  of  our  own  institu 
tions.  If  many  of  the  privileges  and  peculi 
arities  which  I  have  specified  in  this  discourse 
are  possessed  by  other  nations,  in  one  respect 
we  differ  from  them  all.  These  privileges 
and  peculiarities  are  legitimately  ours.  They 
have  not  been  grafted  on  hereditary  antago 
nisms.  They  have  not  grown  up  in  spite  of 
our  institutions,  but  as  tins  fruit  of  our  institu 
tions.  These  ideas,  entwined  with  the  very 
roots  of  our  Republic,  shooting  through  every 
fibre,  running  into  every  limb,  bind  us  to  a 
recognition  of  human  brotherhood ;  to  sym 
pathy  with  Liberty  wherever  it  struggles ;  and 
to  stedfast  opposition  to  whatever  crushes  the 
rights,  hinders  the  development,  or  denies 
the  humanity  of  man.  If  these  symbols  of 
the  Republic  mean  anything,  they  meaii  just 
this ;  and  whatever  is  inconsistent  with,  this,  is 


116      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


inconsistent  with  the  terms  of  our  national 
birthright.  Depend  upon  it,  not  the  assertion 
of  Liberty,  but  whatever  is  opposed  to  Liberty, 
is  the  innovating  and  agitating  element  in  this 
country.  It  interrupts  the  legitimate  current 
of  our  destiny.  It  shocks  the  popular  heart 
with  inconsistency.  It  becomes  mixed  with 
the  ashes  of  the  old  heroes,  and  the  land  keeps 
heaving  with  the  fermentation.  One  assump 
tion  is  too  impudent,  too  nakedly  in  contra 
diction  with  the  fundamental  ideas  of  our 
Republic  ever  to  be  admitted — the  assump 
tion  that  the  man  who  speaks  for  freedom, 
who  sympathizes  with  the  broadest  doctrine 
of  human  rights,  and  sets  around  these  the 
eternal  barriers  of  justice,  is  an  innovator  and 
an  agitator.  I  ask — what  made  our  Revolu 
tion  legitimate  ?  "What  were  the  central  ideas 
that  throbbed  in  the  breasts  of  its  heroes  and 
martyrs  ?  Take  down  the  old  muskets  bent  in 
the  hot  encounter,  and  printed  with  many  a 
death-gripe;  take  down  the  old  uniforms, 
clipped  by  Hessian  sabres  and  torn  by  British 
bullets ;  take  down  the  dusty  muster-rolls, 
scrawled  with  those  venerable  names — names 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    REPUBLIC.  117 


that  now  "  are  graven  on  the  stone,"  names 
that  are  buried  in  the  sod,  names  that  have 
gone  up  to  immortality — and  ask,  for  what 
was  this  great  struggle  ?  Was  it  not  for  free 
dom,  based  upon  the  conception  of  the  right 
and  supremacy  of  freedom  ?  And  is  this  the 
legitimate  conclusion  of  that  sublime  postulate 
—this  other  Fact  which,  never  retreating, 
always  advancing,  follows  the  steps  of  Free 
dom  over  the  continent  like  a  shadow,  looms 
up  like  a  phantom  against  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  and  darkens  the  fairest  waters?  On 
the  contrary,  is  not  Freedom  that  old  truth, 
that  conceded  premise  that  does  not  agitate? 
Liberty,  Human  Rights,  Universal  Brother 
hood,  was  it  not  for  these  ideas  ye  fought — 
was  it  not  these  ye  planted  in  the  soil,  and 
laid  with  the  corner-stone  of  our  institutions  ? 
My  friends,  I  know,  and  you  know,  could  those 
men  give  palpable  sign  and  representation, 
the  answer  that  would  come,  as  in  one  quick 
flash  from  bayonet  to  bayonet,  in  one  long  roll 
of  drums,  from  Lexington  to  Yorktown. 

These   peculiar  privileges,  then,   to  which 
I  have  referred,  differ  from   those   of  other 


118     HUMANITY    IN    T  n  E    CITY. 


nations  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  grafted 
expedients,  but  legitimate  fruits.  Unless  we 
change  the  premises  of  our  Republic,  and  shift 
the  foils  in  our  historical  argument,  these  are 
necessary  conclusions.  They  are  necessary 
conclusions,  if  our  symbols  represent  realities. 
Russia  is  consistent  with  its  national  idea.  It 
pours  forth  its  legions  and  moves  to  its  work 
with  a  terrible  consistency.  And  if  we — 
also  a  great  people,  having  great  power — are 
equally  consistent,  we  shall  fall  back  upon  no 
selfish  conservatism,  but  aid  whatever  tends 
to  fulfil  the  Providential  purpose  of  our  exist 
ence,  and  whatever  helps  and  advances  man. 

One  thing  is  certain.  So  long  as  any  nation 
truly  lives,  it  unfolds  its  specific  idea  and 
lives  according  to  its  original  type.  When 
it  fails  to  do  this,  the  sentence  of  decay  is 
already  written  upon  it.  If  it  fails  to  illustrate 
God's  purpose  in  its  obedience,  it  illustrates 
His  control  in  retribution.  For  there  is 
nothing  supreme,  nothing  finally  triumphant, 
nothing  of  the  last  importance,  but  His  Law. 
It  penetrates,  and  oversweeps,  and  survives 
all  charters  and  institutions  and  nationalities. 


SYMBOLS    OF    THE    REPUBLIC.  119 


like  the  infinite  space  that  encompasses  Alps 
and  Andes,  and  planets  and  systems.  It  is 
this  that  successive  generations  illustrate.  It 
is  this  that  all  history  vindicates.  If  a  nation 
runs  parallel  to  this  Divine  Law,  it  is  well ;  if 
false  to  its  purpose  and  its  control,  down  it 
goes.  The  prophet  Isaiah,  in  one  of  the  most 
terrific  and  sublime  passages  of  the  Bible, 
represents  the  king  of  Babylon,  while  passing 
into  the  under-world,  saluted  by  departed 
rulers,  by  dead  kings,  rising  from  their 
shadowy  thrones,  and  exclaiming,  "  Art  thou 
become  weak  as  we  ?  Art  thou  become  like 
unto  us  ?"  Thus  has  many  a  nation  gone 
down  to  its  doom.  Shall  it  be  so  with  this 
Republic,  because  false  to  its  ideal?  Shall 
it  descend  to  the  shades  of  perished  pomp 
and  greatness,  and  see  Nineveh  with  dusty, 
hieroglyphic  robes  rising  up  to  meet  it ;  and 
Persia,  with  the  empty  wine-cup  of  its  luxury ; 
and  Rome,  with  the  shadow  of  universal 
empire  on  its  discrowned  head ;  and  hear 
them  say — "  Art  thou  become  weak  as  we  ? 
Art  thou  become  like  unto  us?" 

My  friends,  I  look  at  the  eager  enterprise, 


120     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


the  young,  hopeful  vigor,  the  tides  of  possi 
bility  that  flow  through  this  great  city ;  I 
look  at  the  symbols  of  this  Republic ;  and  I 
cannot  believe  that  such  is  to  be  the  result. 
I  look  back  upon  our  history,  and  cannot 
argue  such  a  future  from  such  a  past,  A 
great  light  lay  upon  the  wake  of  those  frail 
ships  that  bore  our  fathers  hither;  the  wake 
of  past  ages,  the  following  of  good  men's 
prayers  and  brave  men's  deeds,  the  mingling 
currents  of  martyr-blood  and  prophet-fire. 
And  methinks,  as  they  struck  the  shore,  and 
met  the  savage  wilderness,  a  Yoice  saluted 
them  ;  a  voice  not  of  profane  ambition  and  of 
selfish  hope,  but  of  Divine  promise,  intending 
Divine  results — proclaiming,  "Thou  art  a 
great  people,  and  hast  great  power."  And 
He  will  fulfil  this  prophecy,  Who  leads  the 
course  of  history  over  the  broad  deep  and 
through  mysterious  ways,  and  Who  unfolds 
His  own  glory  in  the  destinies  of  men. 


THE  SPRINGS  OF  SOCIAL  LIFE 


DISCOURSK    V. 

THE  SPRINGS  OF    SOCIAL  LIFE. 

Let  them  learn  first  to  show  piety  at  home. 

I.  TIMOTHY,  v.  4. 

THE  text — wliicli  I  purpose  to  employ  not 
as  a  specific  precept,  but  as  the  illustration  of 
a  general  principle — indicates  those  Springs  of 
Social  Life  which  constitute  the  subject  of  the 
present  discourse. 

The  crowd  in  a  city  affords  comparatively 
little  interest,  when  we  contemplate  it  merely 
as  a  crowd.  But,  when  we  resolve  it  into  its 
individual  particles,  and  consider  each  of  these 
as  endued  with  the  attributes  and  involved 
with  the  conditions  of  humanity,  our  deepest 
sympathies  are  touched.  Every  drop  of  that 
great  stream  is  a  conscious  personality.  In 
some  shape,  the  universe  is  reflected  in  it.  In 
some  way,  it  takes  hold  of  the  reality  of  life : 


124      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


and  the  living  organism  of  which  it  is  com 
posed  both  acts  and  suffers,  receives  from  the 
world  around  it  and  contributes  to  it.  That 
entire  mass  of  people  involves  nothing  more 
than  the  interest  of  humanity,  and  the  same 
interest  pertains  to  the  least  unit  of  that  mass. 

And,  doubtless,  you  have  sometimes  busied 
yourself  with  the  speculation — "  Where  do  all 
these  people  come  from?  And  whither  do 
they  retire  at  night  ?"  Now,  this  is  really  a 
very  suggestive  question,  and  to  follow  it  out 
to  a  practical  answer  would  yield  results  of 
the  profoundest  importance.  For  out  of  hid 
den  channels,  here  and  there,  do  spring  all 
these  struggling  activities,  these  human  diver 
sities,  these  various  influences  good  and  evil, 
that  make  up  the  crowd  and  spectacle  of  city 
life.  And  night  after  night,  with  the  rarest 
exceptions,  into  some  retreat  they  all  disap 
pear.  Some  spot — whether  it  seem  the  veriest 
mockery  to  style  it  so,  or  whether  it  be  a 
synonym  for  the  sweetest  sanctities — some 
spot  each  of  this  living  multitude  calls  by  the 
name  of  "  Home." 

For  some  that   name  is  associated  with  a 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     125 


more  than  oriental  magnificence.  Man  and 
nature  wait  upon  them  there  in  every  conceiv 
able  form  of  service.  There  is  no  method  of 
convenience  or  luxury  which  ingenuity  can 
devise ;  no  bounty  that  earth  can  yield  from 
her  many-zoned  bosom ;  no  shape  which  art 
can  summon  from  the  regions  of  the  beautiful , 
that  is  not  possible  there.  Lifting  its  palatial 
walls,  and  kindling  with  brilliant  lights,  it 
stands  there  as  the  completest  symbol  of  mate 
rial  refinement  and  civilization.  It  is  arctic 
winter  without.  The  snow  chokes  up  the 
dreary  street,  and  the  whistling  wind  cuts  the 
beggar's  rags.  But  it  is  Italy,  it  is  Ceylon,  it 
is  tropic  gorgeousness  within.  And  these  are 
the  abodes  of  the  children  of  fortune,  whose 
wishes  require  no  talisman  but  expression,  who, 
all  their  lives  long,  have  been  used  to  such 
indulgence,  or  who  accept  it  now  as  the  fruit 
of  their  own  effort.  This  is  the  hospitality 
which  some  men  find  in  life,  and  out  of  which 
they  constitute  a  home. 

But  none  the  less  enviable,  and  perhaps  much 
more  so,  are  those  retreats  where  comfort 
waits  on  moderate  means,  while  contentment 


126      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


imparts  to  these  an  unpurchasable  efficacy ; 
where,  blended  with  those  infirmities  and  lia 
bilities  which  are  common  to  palace  and  cot 
tage,  the  domestic  affections  flourish,  and  the 
dearest  treasures  of  life  are  kept.  Thousands 
of  homes  like  this  there  are,  all  around  us.  It 
describes  the  largest  class  of  homes,  we  may 
believe.  And  who  can  estimate  their  influence 
over  these  busy  tides  of  action,  all  day  long  ? 
That  world  of  traffic,  that  world  of  toil,  that 
looks  so  hard  and  gross  and  sordid, — is  it  not 
transformed  somewhat,  does  it  not  grow  beau 
tiful  even,  when  you  think  how  many  of  its 
energies  have  their  spring  by  the  infant's 
cradle  and  the  mother's  chair?  And  what 
lights,  what  shadows,  unseen  by  you,  fall 
upon  the  speculative  eyes,  fall  upon  the  hearts, 
of  thousands  in  that  homeward-streaming 
crowd !  Light  of  welcoming  hearth-fires, 
shadows  of  children's  play  upon  the  walls; 
light  of  affections  in  which  there  are  no  decay 
and  no  deceit ;  shadows  of  sacred  retirement 
where  God  alone  is  ;  light  of  joys  which  this 
world's  storms  cannot  utterly  quench ;  shadows 
of  sorrow  around  sick-beds,  and  in  vacant 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     127 


places,  that  still  make  home  the  dearer  as  the 
arena  of  earth's  purest  discipline  and  of  its 
most  triumphant  faith ! 

And  why  delineate  the  features  of  that  other  / 
class  of  homes,  whose  most  significant  word  ' 
is  "  Privation  f"  Where  cheerlessness,  and 
hunger,  and  desponding  toil,  or  hopeless 
apathy,  brood  continually.  Let  your  own 
sympathies,  let  your  own  imaginations  that 
cannot  exaggerate  the  reality,  call  up  the 
vision,  of  such.  Think  how  many  such  abodes 
there  are  this  very  night,  which  winter 
besieges  with  all  his  terrors,  and  into  which 
he  sends  his  invading  frost!  Think  what 
Home  is  to  hundreds,  and,  therefore,  how  life 
looks  to  them,  seen  through  this  atmosphere 
of  disease  and  want,  with  starvation  by  the 
hearth,  and  death  at  the  door,  and  misery 
everywhere!  Think,  when  the  cold  pierces 
even  through  all  your  wrappages  of  comfort, 
and  scarcity  almost  pinches,  what  forms  of 
humanity,  with  lungs,  and  nerves,  and  hearts, 
and  every  capacity  for  suffering,  are  scraping 
the  moss  of  subsistence  from  the  barest  rocks 
of  life,  and  struggling  every  day  through  an 


128      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


avalanche !  Think  what  this  Sabbath  has 
been  in  the  dwellings  of  the  poor,  you  who 
have  had  time  to  listen  to  the  Gospel,  and 
have  heard  it  comfortably — so  comfortably, 
perhaps,  that  you  have  fallen  asleep  under  it — • 
think  what  this  Sabbath  has  been  in  the  dwell 
ings  of  the  poor !  And  yet,  when  I  consider 
what,  doubtless,  the  Sabbath  has  been  in  some 
of  those  places,  I  am  thankful  that  the  highest 
ideal,  the  richest  sanctities  of  Home,  are  not 
dependent  upon  outward  conditions  ;  for  even 
there,  unfaltering  duty  and  true  love  have 
made  the  bare  walls  beautiful,  and  prayer  has 
set  the  desolate  chamber  on  the  steps  of  the 
Divine  throne  ;  and  before  the  eye  of  faith  the 
cold  arch  of  the  winter  night,  that  looks  in 
through  hole  and  cranny,  has  burst  into  a 
revelation  of  heaven,  and  a  path  for  those 
ministering  angels  that  come  to  help  the  suf 
ferer  and  to  comfort  God's  poor. 

With  more  unqualified  sadness,  therefore, 
our  thoughts  must  rest  upon  still  another 
group  of  dwellings,  where  deprivation  and 
ignorance  are  mingled  with  vice  and  crime — 
where  want  and  guilt  strip  away  the  masks  of 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     129 


civilization,  and  bring  out  the  essential  savage 
in  man's  nature.  These  also  we  must  call 
"  homes  /"  These  breathing-holes  of  abomi 
nation,  these  moral  tombs,  where  huddle  the 
demons  of  violence,  and  cunning,  and  de 
bauchery,  and  from  which  they  issue.  That 
vast  Hades  of  social  evil  opening  downward 
from  our  streets,  where  the  best  ideals  have  no 
type,  and  the  purest  sentiments  scarce  a  name ; 
where  God  is  but  a  dark  cloud  of  muttering 
thunder  in  the  soul ;  where  all  that  is  fair  in 
womanhood  is  dishevelled  and  transformed ; 
and!  where  childhood  is  baptized  in  infamy, 
trained  to  sin,  canopied  with  curses,  and 
rocked  to  sleep  by  the  convulsive  hell  of 
passions  all  around  it. 

The  Homes  of  the  Metropolis  !  Thus  diver 
sified  are  they  in  their  general  types,  and 
more  numerous  in  their  individual  conditions 
than  can  be  specified.  And,  surely,  it  is  no 
vain  speculation  that  inquires — "What  are 
they  ?  Into  what  retreats  do  the  elements  of 
this  busy  crowd  dissolve,  night  after  night  ?" 
Whatever  they  may  be,  a  common  interest 
envelopes  them  and  links  them  all  together — 


130      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


the  interest  of  humanity.  They  have  vanished 
from  the  streets.  One  great  shadow  covers 
them,  and  hides  their  distinctions.  For  a  time 
they  are  all  equal.  They  have  fallen  asleep — • 
poor,  tired  humanity  at  the  best ! — they  have 
fallen  asleep  on  the  bosom  of  a  common  Pro 
vidence,  that  bears  them  all  up,  as  it  bears  the 
planet  on  which  they  now  repose,  through  the 
orbit  of  its  great  purpose  and  the  immensities 
of  its  love.  But  in  the  morning  all  these 
diversities  will  break  forth  again,  each  pour 
ing  its  influence  into  the  general  stream.  And 
who  does  not  perceive  how  much  the  character 
of  that  influence  must  depend  upon  the  condi 
tion  of  those  homes  ?  Who  does  not  see  that 
not  only  the  interest  of  the  common  humanity 
in  its  most  intimate  experiences  attaches  to 
them,  but  the  interest  of  community?  ~Not 
only  are  they  the  reservoirs  of  individual 
power  and  peculiarity,  but  they  are  the 
Springs  of  Social  Life.  And  this  the  apostle 
indicated,  when  he  directed  that  certain,  who 
bore  intimate  relations  to  the  early  church, 
should  "  first  learn  to  show  piety  at  home." 
Keeping  this  conclusion  in  mind,  let  me  ask 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     131 


you  to  consider,  for  a  little  while,  what  Home 
must  be. 

In  the  first  place — it  is  the  earliest  and  the 
most  influential  school.  Nowhere  else  is  the 
character  so  moulded;  nowhere  else  is  so 
much  infused  into  our  entire  being.  For, 
whatever  it  may  be,  it  is  the  nursery  of  child 
hood  ;  and  "  the  child  is  father  to  the  man." 
Here  dawns  upon  the  human  mind  the  concep 
tion  of  life.  Here,  when  the  nature  is  unin- 
scribed  and  plastic,  it  takes  its  first  impres 
sions.  I  suppose  it  to  be  true,  that  more  is 
learnt,  more  that  is  elementary  and  a  key  to 
all  the  rest,  in  the  first  few  years  of  childhood 
than  in  all  after  time.  I  do  not  deny,  of 
course,  that  much  is  corrected  and  overcome 
under  another  class  of  influences.  But  the 
deepest  impressions,  the  seeds  of  the  most 
stubborn  habits,  are  planted  at  home.  Hence 
the  peculiar  anxiety  of  good  men  to  rescue 
children  from  the  influences  of  a  bad  home. 
And,  even  then,  with  what  obstacles  do  they 
have  to  contend !  How  radical  are  the  preju 
dices  already  formed  in  that  young  mind! 
How  obstinate  the  customs,  how  opaque  the 


132      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


ignorance,  how  rank  the  growth  of  error ! 
Nay,  into  what  complete  fruition  have  all  these 
grown,  simply  in  the  neglect  of  home-culture, 
to  say  nothing  of  influenjces  positively  evil ! 
Really,  the  color  and  current  of  a  man's 
destiny  are  indicated  here,  unless  a  shock  of 
wonderful  transformation  comes  over  him.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say  that  anybody  is  wholly 
the  creature  of  circumstances ;  but  he  is  the 
subject  of  circumstances.  If  they  do  not 
entirely  make  him,  they  furnish  the  occasion 
out  of  which  he  makes  something ;  and, 
viewed  either  from  the  platform  of  the  inward 
or  the  outward,  they  furnish  an  important  key 
to  his  life.  And,  although  the  path  of  reform 
ation  is  more  difficult  than  the  descent  into 
evil,  and  demands  an  effort  which  too  few  are 
inclined  to  put  forth ;  though  by  the  condi 
tions  of  our  nature  the  good  is  more  easily 
swept  away  than  the  bad ;  still,  it  is  encou 
raging  to  estimate  the  permanence  and  the 
power  of  those  good  influences  which  are 
received  at  home.  Everybody  knows,  when 
he  is  pitched  into  this  whirlpool  of  evil  that 
rolls  around  him  in  the  world,  how  those  old 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     133 


home-restraints  lie  upon  him  like  a  magic 
chain,  hard  to  be  forced  away — perhaps  never 
utterly  forced  away.  And,  seeking  for  those 
who  should  stand  up  in  this  boisterous  sweep 
of  sin,  you  would  look  and  I  would  look  to 
those  who  had  received  the  best  impressions 
under  the  domestic  roof.  If  I  were  alone, 
poor,  compelled  to  ask  charity  somewhere  in 
this  selfish  world,  I  would  go,  not  to  the  man 
who  has  learnt  most  of  what  he  calls  his 
"  wisdom"  from  the  experience  of  mature  life, 
but  to  him  in  whose  heart  there  evidently 
remains  something  of  childhood's  tenderness, 
kept  warm  by  the  remembered  pressures  of 
his  mother's  breast.  If  I  were  seeking  to 
restore  some  wild  prodigal,  brazen-fronted  by 
his  own  wicked  will  and  by  the  scorn  with 
which  men  have  battered  him — if  I  were 
looking  for  some  gleam  of  promise  in  his  tur 
bulent  nature,  and  sounding  its  depths  to  find 
some  spring  of  repentance — I  should  never 
despair  if  I  could  discover  one  gentle  pulse 
that  beat  with  the  memories  of  a  good  and 
happy  home.  Why,  who  needs  to  be  told  of 
the  potency  of  this  our  earliest  school,  to  say 


134:     HUMANITY    IN    T i-i E    CITY. 


nothing  of  other  influences,  if  only  a  faithful 
mother  presides  there  ?  O  !  mother,  mother, 
name  for  the  earliest  relationship,  symbol  of 
the  divine  tenderness ;  kindling  a  love  that  we 
never  blush  to  confess,  and  a  veneration  that 
we  cannot  help  rendering ;  how  does  your 
mystic  influence,  imparted  from  the  soft  pres 
sure  and  the  undying  smile,  weave  itself 
through  all  the  brightness  through  all  the 
darkness  of  our  after  life.  The  mould  of  cha 
racter  set  on  the  front  of  the  world's  great 
men,  and  gladly  confessed  by  them,  bears 
your  stamp.  Your  inspiration  burns  along 
the  poet's  line.  It  is  your  true  courage,  more 
than  man's  rude  daring,  that  makes  the  force 
of  heroes.  The  statesman,  when  treason  to 
humanity  wears  the  garb  of  power,  and  duty 
calls  him  like  a  trumpet,  hears  your  voice. 
The  philanthropist,  when  he  feels  that  the 
most  efficient  service  is  to  be  patient  and  to 
wait,  imbibes  the  strength  of  your  fortitude. 
Hie  sailor,  "  on  the  high  and  giddy  mast," 
mingles  your  name  close  to  God's.  And 
thousands  in  life's  great  claims,  in  life's  great 
perils,  trace  back  the  influences  of  the  hour  to 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     135 


some  early  time,  some  calm  moment,  when, — 
little,  timid  children, — they  knelt  by  your 
side,  and  from  tones  of  reverence  and  looks  of 
love  and  simple  words  of  prayer,  they  first 
learnt  piety  at  home. 

But  I  observe  again,  that  Home  is  the 
sphere  wrhere  are  most  clearly  displayed  the 
real  elements  of  character.  The  world  fur 
nishes  occasions  of  trial,  but  it  also  furnishes 
prudential  considerations.  Without  any  abso 
lute  hypocrisy,  one  measures  his  speech  and  re 
strains  his  action  in  the  street  and  the  market. 
And  it  is  easy  to  conceive  how  small  men  may 
perform  great  deeds,  and  mean  men  seem  phi 
lanthropic,  and  cowrards  flourish  as  heroes,  with 
the  tremendous  motive  of  publicity  to  urge 
them.  But  at  home  all  masks  are  thrown  aside, 
and  the  true  proportions  of  the  man  appear. 
Here  he  can  find  his  actual  moral  standard,  and 
measure  himself  accordingly.  If  he  is  irritable, 
here  breaks  forth  his  repressed  fretfulness.  If 
he  is  selfish,  here  are  the  sordid  tokens.  If  he 
passes  in  any  way  for  more  than  he  is  worth, 
here  you  may  detect  the  counterfeit  in  the 
ring  of  his  natural  voice  and  the  superscription 


136      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


of  his  undisguised  life.  No,  the  world  is  not 
the  place  to  prove  the  moral  stature  and 
quality  of  a  man.  There  are  too  many  props 
and  stimulants.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  can 
he  himself  determine  his  actual  character 
merely  by  looking  into  his  own  solitary  heart. 
Therein  he  may  discover  possibilities,  but  it 
needs  actuality  to  make  up  the  estimate  of  a 
complete  life.  He  must  do  something  as  well 
as  be  something ;  he  must  do  something  in 
order  that  he  may  be  something.  For,  what 
he  thinks  is  in  his  heart  may  be  exaggerated 
by  self-flattery,  or  darkened  by  morbid  self- 
distrust.  It  needs  some  occasion  to  prove 
what  is  really  there.  And  Home  is  precisely 
that  sphere  which  is  sufficiently  removed  from 
the  factitious  motives  of  publicity  on  the  one 
extreme,  and  the  unexercised  possibilities  of 
the  human  heart  on  the  other,  to  afford  a 
genuine  test.  What  a  man  really  is,  therefore, 
will  appear  in  the  truest  light  under  his  own 
roof  and  by  his  own  fireside.  I  can  believe 
that  he  is  a  Christian,  when  I  know  that  he 
faithfully  takes  up  the  daily  duties,  and  bears 
the  crosses,  that  cluster  within  his  own  doors. 


SPRINGS    OF   SOCIAL    LIFE.    137 


I  shall  think  that  the  world  rightly  calls  him  a 
philanthropist,  when,  notwithstanding  common 
faults  and  infirmities,  he  receives  the  sponta 
neous  award  of  the  good  husband  and  father, 
and  the  kindness  of  his  nature  is  reflected  in 
the  very  air  and  light  of  his  dwelling.  And, 
—talk  of  noble  deeds  ! — where  will  you  find 
occasions  for,  where  will  you  behold  manifest 
ations  of,  a  more  beautiful  self-sacrifice,  a 
more  generous  heroism,  than  in  the  labors  and 
in  the  endurance  of  thousands  of  men  and 
women,  shut  out  from  the  world's  observation 
in  silent  nooks  and  corners  of  this  very  city, 
amidst  the  relationships  and  cares  and  strug 
gles  of  home  ?  But  whether  it  be  in  forms  of 
good  or  evil,  we  know  that  the  real  elements 
of  character,  the  genuine  moral  qualities  of 
people,  must  be  expressed  there. 

And,  I  remark  once  more,  that  at  Home  we 
must  find  the  most  essential  happiness  or 
misery  of  life.  The  same  conditions  apply 
here  as  those  which  relate  to  character.  The 
world  is  a  theatre  of  seeming,  and  we  can 
hardly  tell  by  what  we  notice  there  who  is,  or 
who  is  not,  happy.  We  know  that  gaiety  is 


138     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


often  the  reckless  ripple  over  depths  of 
despair ;  and  that  men  will  bear  up  with  a 
smile  while  untold  agony  is  gnawing  at  their 
heart-strings,  and  will  die  laughing,  in  an 
agony  of  defiance,  under  the  sword-strokes  of 
fortune.  On  the  other  hand  we  may  count 
some  as  unfortunate,  in  whose  bosoms,  all  the 
wThile,  there  are  flowing  inexhaustible  springs 
of  peace,  and  who  derive  real  joy  from  what  we 
suppose  to  be  a  hard  and  pitiable  lot.  But 
amidst  the  undisguised  realities  of  home  we 
can  form  the  most  correct  estimate  of  a  man's 
condition.  In  the  first  place  because,  as  has 
been  remarked,  he  is  there  most  truly  himself. 
He  gains  opportunity  for  reflection,  and  gives 
vent  to  the  secret  burden  of  his  heart.  There 
he  empties  the  load  of  his  envies,  his  rivalries, 
his  disappointments ;  which  he  has  carried 
before  the  world  muffled  in  courtesy  or  pride. 
These,  it  may  be,  meet  and  are  re-acted  upon 
by  kindred  elements ;  engendered,  perhaps,  by 
the  very  atmosphere  which  he  himself,  in  the 
first  place,  created.  Oh !  how  many  rich 
dwellings  there  are,  crowded  with  every  ap 
pointment  of  luxury,  that  are  only  glittering 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     139 


ice-caverns  of  selfishness  and  discontent ; 
pavilions  of  misery,  where  jangling  discord 
mars  the  show,  and  a  chill  of  mutual  distrust 
breathes  through  the  sumptuous  apartments, 
and  heartless  ostentation  presides  like  a 
robed  skeleton  at  the  feast.  You  feel  that 
nothing  is  genial  or  spontaneous  there.  The 
courtesy  is  dreary  etiquette,  and  the  laughter 
forced  music.  You  would  dine  as  happily 
with  the  forms  on  the  canvas,  with  the  cold 
marbles  in  the  hall.  For  all  this  magnifi 
cence  is  nothing  more  than  a  gorgeous  pall 
over  dead  affections — nothing  more  than  the 
coronation  of  a  living  woe. 

"Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs,"  says  the 
wise  man,  "where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox 
and  hatred  therewith."  And  many  a  home 
exists  where  there  is  but  little  more  than  a 
dinner  of  herbs,  which  affection  and  mutual 
Loyalty,  and  sweet  dispositions,  convert  into 
a  palace.  And  there  are  fixed  boundaries  of 
peace,  that  society  cannot  encroach  upon, 
while  the  processions  of  ambition  and  plea 
sure  and  ceaseless  pursuit,  pass  by  its  windows 
and  disturb  it  not.  Here  the  good  man  and 


140    HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


the  brave  man — the  man  who  has  nobly 
discharged  his  duty  at  whatever  cost — is  re 
spected  and  understood.  Hither  he  can  retreat 
beyond  the  shots  of  calumny  which  have 
torn  the  ensign  of  his  good  name ;  beyond 
the  deceit  of  men,  which  halts  at  the 
threshold.  Here  he  can  look  calmly  out 
upon  the  changes  of  fortune  and  the  frowns 
of  the  world.  Here  his  perplexed  spirit 
finds  inspirations  of  strength,  and  space  for 
rest.  There  is  no  happiness  in  life,  there  is 
no  misery,  like  that  growing  out  of  the 
dispositions  which  consecrate  or  desecrate  a 
Home. 

Moreover,  the  elements  of  profoundest  joy 
or  suffering  are  there,  because  there  are 
unfolded  the  deepest  experiences  of  our 
mortal  lot.  There  transpire  those  events 
which  constitute  the  eras  of  our  existence. 
There,  day  by  day,  grows  the  sentiment  of 
filial  veneration  and  love.  There  is  the  joy 
of  wedded  felicity.  There  wells  up  in  the 
heart  the  first  strange  gush  of  parental  affec 
tion.  There  comes  the  intimation  of  awful 
change  staring  upon  us  with  the  face  of 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    141 


death.  There  falls  the  shadow  of  the 
funeral  train,  passing  across  the  threshold. 
There  breaks  in  upon  us  the  sense  of  bereave 
ment,  in  the  vacant  chambers ;  where  the 
familiar  foot-step  patters,  where  the  familiar 
voice  is  heard  no  more.  From  the  very 
nature  of  tilings,  the  profoundest  happiness 
and  misery  of  human  life  must  be  expe 
rienced  among  the  conditions  of  Home. 

Having  thus  in  some  respects  considered 
what  Home  must  be,  I  have  virtually  antici 
pated  whatever  may  be  said  in  the  second 
division  of  this  discourse  respecting  what 
Home  ought  to  be. 

Thus,  as  it  is  the  earliest  and  most  influential 
school,  it  behoves  every  one  who  is  bound 
by  its  responsibilities  to  make  it  an  agent  of 
the  ~best  culture.  The 'great  subject  of  Home 
Education,  is  of  itself  enough  for  a  series  of 
discourses ;  and  I  have  not  room  to  lay  down 
even  the  general  propositions  which  belong  to 
it,  much  less  for  specifications.  But  I  would 
remind  you — and  I  think  the  suggestion  is 
especially  needed  amidst  the  whirl  of  city 
life — that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  Home 


142      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY 


Education,  and  it  presses  its  claims  upon 
everybody  who  inhabits  a  Home.  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  Home  Education,  differing 
from  school  education,  whether  of  the  week 
day  or  the  Sabbath,  and  therefore  it  is  a 
matter  we  ought  to  attend  to,  and  not  sup 
pose  we  have  done  enough  when  we  patron 
ize  an  academy,  or  help  fill  a  class  on  Sunday. 
To  every  parent — to  every  influential  mem 
ber  of  a  household — there  is  committed  a 
charge  which  can  be  shifted  to  no  one  else ; 
there  is  an  opportunity  which  no  outside 
teacher  possesses.  There  are  some  duties  in 
life  that  we  have  to  look  for  and  to  go  after ; 
there  are  others  which  are  passed  right  into 
our  hands,  whether  we  will  or  not.  And  this 
duty  of  Home  Education  is  of  the  latter  kind. 
Now,  I  have  just  said  that  I  cannot  specify 
here,  and  even  if  there  were  room  I  am  not 
sure  that  it  would  be  advisable.  For  I  doubt 
whether  we  can  give  any  manual  of  methods 
and  instruments  in  this  respect,  any  more 
than  there  can  be  a  manual  of  religious  ex 
ercises  suited  to  every  spiritual  peculiarity. 
Dispositions,  capacities,  circumstances,  must 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    143 


create  their  own  methods.  And  perhaps  the 
poorest  method  of  all  would  be  some  system 
of  domestic  education,  which  the  experimenter 
thinks  will  do  the  work  exactly.  I  am  some 
what  suspicious  of  systems.  I  am  more  than 
suspicious  of  any  constrained  formal  method, 
bringing  up  children  in  a  mere  manual  drill, 
crimping  them  into  a  mould  of  mincing  pro 
prieties,  and  making  them  speak  with  an 
automaton  click.  Perhaps  the  most  headlong 
young  men  that  can  be  found,  are  those  who 
spent  their  early  days  in  a  sort  of  strait 
jacket  with  a  clock-work  movement.  They 
were  wround  up  so  tight  when  they  were  boys, 
that  now  they  take  great  pleasure  in  going 
fast,  and  running  down.  In  other  words, 
having  felt  their  early  training  to  be  mere 
training,  the  moment  they  strip  off  the  con 
straint,  they  plunge  into  the  opposite  extreme 
of  no  constraint.  Nay,  I  believe  that  even 
children  who  are  left  to  their  own  instincts, 
and  shoved  out  into  the  world  to  take  care  of 
themselves,  are  generally  better  balanced,  and 
go  with  steadier  motion  than  these.  Of 
course,  however,  neither  extreme  is  right 


144     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


There  is  such  a  thing,  I  say  once  more,  as 
Home  Education,  involving  all  necessary 
training  and  true  constraint;  and  yet  not 
oppressively  felt  as  such,  because  it  is  free, 
informal,  and  respects  the  spontaneity  of  the 
childish  nature.  But,  whether  our  Home 
Education  be  formal  or  informal,  direct  or 
indirect,  there  is  one  kind  of  education  which 
we  are  sure  to  impart.  It  is  the  education  of 
example,  silent,  effective,  stronger  and  more 
easily  apprehended  than  any  set  of  maxims. 
I  would  we  were  all  duly  impressed  with  the 
responsibilities  of  Home  as  they  appear  in  this 
light;  might  feel,  however  we  may  be  ab 
sorbed  in  business  or  in  pleasure,  that  the 
young  mind  and  heart  are  receiving  influ 
ences,  and  growing  into  expressions  that  in 
some  way  will  surprise  us. 

In  the  next  place  I  observe,  that  if  we 
display  our  real  dispositions  and  characters 
at  home,  we  should  recognize  it  practically 
as  a  sphere  of  moral  discipline.  The  family 
is  a  divine  ordinance — the  Home  is  an  in 
stitution  of  God,  forecast  in  the  peculiarities 
of  our  very  nature.  History  shows  no  period 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    145 


when  it  did  not  exist,  and  we  discover  no 
tribe  so  barbarous  as  to  be  without  it.  It  is 
the  foundation  of  all  society.  It  embosoms 
the  germ  and  ideal  of  the  State.  According 
to  the  purity  of  its  relations,  the  intensity  of 
its  sympathies,  the  inviolability  of  its  rights, 
a  nation's  life  is  high  or  low,  feeble  or  strong, 
fickle  or  enduring.  And  if  it  is  thus  rooted 
in  the  nature  and  the  history  of  man,  we  may 
well  believe  that  it  affords  some  of  the  pro 
found  est  occasions  for  that  moral  discipline 
which  is  the  great  purpose  of  our  existence 
upon  the  earth. 

It  is  certainly  the  great  sphere  in  which 
our  affections  are  to  be  cultivated.  Of  course 
I  do  not  mean  that  this  is  the  limit  of  their 
cultivation.  But  here  they  are  nurtured,  and 
out  of  this  they  grow.  As  love  is  the  In 
finite  Nature  itself,  so  is  it  the  prevalent 
sentiment  of  all  life.  It  has  been  ordained 
that  this  great  element  should  now  through 
every  form  of  being,  linking  them  together 
by  a  common  feeling,  and  lending  some  in 
terest  to  the  most  insignificant.  And  man 
has  been  set  in  the  familv  relation  that  this 


146     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


sentiment  might  be  developed.  There  is  no 
one  in  whose  heart  it  does  not  exist.  You 
cannot  find  me  a  being  so  defaced,  so  alienated 
from  the  common  stock  of  humanity,  as  to 
cherish  in  his  bosom  no  secret  fount  of  love, 
no  fibril  of  affection  linking  him  to  something 
else.  But  of  this  love  there  are  numerous 
degrees  ;  and  the  highest  forms  of  it,  that  go 
forth  in  expressions  of  self-sacrifice  and  world 
wide  sympathy,  are  only  developed  by  cul 
ture.  And  for  this  culture  there  are  rich 
opportunities  amidst  the  relations  and  sane 
tities  of  Home. 

And  there  is  opportunity  among  these 
relations  also,  for  active  duty,  and  in  its 
daily  tasks  and  responsibilities,  is  often  illus 
trated  that  practical  lesson  which  society  so 
much  needs — the  lesson  of  mutual  help. 
It  is  a  school  where  we  may  learn  endurance 
and  charity.  Out  of  its  trials  is  developed 
the  sense  of  religious  need ;  and  under  the 
shadow  of  its  bereavements  we  appreciate 
the  glorious  vision  of  Faith.  There  are 
other  issues  in  life,  where  we  need  these 
divine  helps;  none  where  we  feel  the  need 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    147 


of  them  more.  Those  who  have  stood  by 
the  sick-bed  and  taken  the  last  look  of  the 
dearest  earthly  objects,  and  yet  have  lifted 
hearts  of  trust,  and  eyes  of  transcendent  hope, 
are  able  to  meet  the  intensest  sorrows  of  the 
world,  and  to  come  out  like  refined  gold. 
Home,  then,  should  be  regarded  especially 
in  this  light,  as  a  sphere  where  the  richest 
elements  of  our  moral  culture  are  supplied. 

Finally,  if  at  home  we  find  the  most  es 
sential  happiness  or  misery  of  life,  of  course 
each  should  do  his  best  to  make  it  the  most 
attractive  of  all  places.  He  should  bring 
not  his  worst,  but  his  best  temper  there. 
How  many  are  there  who  bottle  up  their 
wrath  all  the  day  long,  and  uncork  it  when 
they  get  home !  They  had  better  reverse 
the  process.  If  you  must  chafe  under  dis 
appointment,  and  indulge  angry  passion,  let 
it  out  in  the  excitement  of  the  world,  where 
the  rough  friction  of  business  will  help  you 
to  get  rid  of  it,  or  where  nobody  has  time 
to  care  whether  you  get  rid  of  it  or  not. 

And  let  business  stay  where  it  belongs. 
Do  not  interrupt  social  claims  with  its  spe- 


148        H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y     IN     THE     0  I  T  Y  . 


dilations ;  nor  drag  the  counting-room  into 
the  parlor.  There  are  some  men  with  whom 
business  is  a  disease ;  they  are  never  easy 
with  it  and  never  rid  of  it.  Thus,  perhaps, 
they  acquire  a  reputation  for  smartness  and 
enterprise ;  but  they  do  it,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
by  putting  aside  other  and  more  sacred 
claims. 

]N~or  let  him  who  is  the  genial  companion 
abroad,  be  the  morose  boarder  in  his  own 
house,  reserving  his  vivacity  for  society  and 
the  lees  for  the  fireside.  It  is  a  great  deal 
better  to  be  like  the  stream  that  is  good 
and  welcome  wherever  it  flows,  but  is  sure 
to  be  fresh  at  its  source.  Indeed,  there  are 
men  who  are  made  up  of  foam,  and 
sparkle,  and  who  circulate  in  society,  but 
contribute  nothing  to  the  necessaries  of 
life,  and  are  returned  empty.  It  is  an  un 
fortunate  gift  that  cheers  the  world  out 
doors,  but  casts  only  a  dreary  shadow 
inside. 

Of  course,  in  speaking  of  the  influence 
of  dispositions  in  making  home  attractive, 
I  would  include  the  duty  of  those  who 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    149 


stay  at  home  as  well  as  of  those  who  go 
abroad,  and  that  self-sacrifice  and  kind 
hearts  should  be  found  as  well  as  brought 
there.  Indeed,  if  time  would  allow  me  to 
make  a  theme  of  what  now  can  be  only  a 
hint,  I  should  dwell  largely  upon  woman's 
influence  in  this  matter. 

But  home  is  to  be  rendered  attractive  not 
only  by  the  disposition,  but  by  the  customs 
of  its  inmates.  It  must  be  a  place  to  live, 
not  merely  to  eat  and  sleep  in;  a  place 
where  we  can  find  entertainment,  and  not 
always  leave  in  search  of  it.  It  is  really 
a  monstrous  folly,  this  fashionable  treatment 
of  home,  which  leads  people  to  abandon 
it  almost  every  night  in  pursuit  of  pleasure, 
or  else  to  sweep  it  with  a  rout,  which  con 
siders  a  household  evening  very  dull,  and 
makes  Sunday  a  day  for  sleeping  and 
yawning.  The  central  idea  of  home  isv 
stability,  and  this  has  much  less  chance  to 
be  realized  in  the  city  than  in  the  country. 
In  the  latter,  old  forms  and  landmarks  are 
not  so  liable  to  interruption,  and  the  slow  I, 
process  of  time  works  instead  of  the  hand 


150      H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y     I  N     THE      C  I  T  Y  . 

of  innovation.  But  in  a  city,  where  a  man 
emigrates  before  he  has  fairly  settled,  and 
where  many  move  with  every  May-day, 
the  idea  of  a  homestead  is  almost  obsolete. 
Elegance,  solidity,  venerable  associations, 
none  of  these  can  resist  the  march  of  im 
provement,  and  the  rapid  tide  of  business 
enterprise.  The  main  streets  of  a  great 
city  in  this  country,  may  almost  be  termed 
so  many  dissolving  views  of  perpetual  change 
and  renewal.  But,  perhaps,  there  is  hardly 
one  of  us  who  does  not  feel  that  by  his  or 
her  own  exertions  the  essential  element  of 
Home  can  be  made  far  more  abiding  than 
it  now  is;  and  where  we  hear  of  frivolous 
daughters  and  dissipated  sons,  many  a  parent 
may  ask  the  question,  "  What  have  I  done 
to  cheer  and  consecrate  the  household  world, 
and  make  it  more  abiding?" 

My  friends,  when  I  consider  the  magni 
tude  and  importance  of  the  subject  now 
before  us,  and  how  many  topics  of  discussion 
grow  out  of  it — when  I  think  how  much 
must  be  left  entirely  unsaid — I  entreat  you 
not  to  suppose  that  T  offer  this  discourse  as 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.     151 


anything  more  than  a  suggestion — a  sug 
gestion  meant  to  turn  your  attention  to  this 
subject  of  Home  in  the  City,  and  leaving 
it  to  the  elaboration  of  your  own  thoughts. 
Remember,  here  abide  the  deepest  springs 
of  social  life.  The  noblest  privileges,  the 
greatest  duties,  find  their  basis  here;  and 
we  are  taught  first  "  to  show  piety  at  Home." 
And  the  influence  of  this  institution  upon 
all  other  fields  of  human  action,  private  or 
public,  is  too  obvious  to  mention.  All  life 
flows  from  the  centre,  outwards;  and  the 
citizen  who  desires  the  order  and  purity  of 
the  community  in  which  he  lives;  the 
philanthropist,  who,  under  all  conditions, 
regards  the  highest  welfare  of  his  race; 
the  Christian,  who  urges  the  secret  culture 
of  the  soul,  must  look  with  peculiar  solicitude 
to  this  institution.  It  is  one  whose  im 
potence  is  demonstrated  by  the  strength  of 
the  instinct  which  creates  it  and  clings  to 
it — an  instinct  which  associates  the  most 
genuine  happiness  with  its  sacred  enclosure 
of  affection,  however  rude  or  poor  that  spot 
may  be — -which,  while  a  man  lias  such  a 


152     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


place  to  call  his  own,  makes  him  feel  that 
he  is  somebody,  and  has  some  tie  and  claim 
in  the  world ;  and  which,  on  the  other 
hand,  associated  the  most  bitter  destitution, 
the  dreariest  isolation,  with  that  one  word — 
"  Homeless." 

How  this  instinct  abides,  how  long  and 
how  far  it  goes  with  us,  is  beautifully  illus 
trated  in  the  lines  of  Goldsmith. 

"  In  all  my  wand'rings  round  this  world  of  care, 
In  all  my  griefs — and  God  has  giv'n  my  share, 
I  still  had  hopes  my  latest  hours  to  crown, 
Amidst  these  humble  bow'rs  to  lay  me  down  ; 
To  husband  out  life's  taper  at  the  close, 
And  keep  the  flame  from  wasting  by  repose. 
****** 

Around  my  fire  an  ev'ning  group  to  draw, 
And  tell  of  all  I  felt,  and  all  I  saw ; 
And,  as  a  hare  whom  hounds  and  horns  pursue, 
Pants  to  the  place  from  whence  at  first  he  flew, 
I  still  had  hopes,  my  long  vexations  past, 
Here  to  return — and  die  at  Home  at  last." 

Hopes,  my  friends,  which  I  think  glow 
In  the  breasts  of  most  of  us,  and  burst 
spontaneously  from  our  lips.  "Let  us,"  we 


SPRINGS    OF    SOCIAL    LIFE.    153 


say,  "  if  our  lot  may  be  so  ordered — if  the 
lines  of  duty  run  not  otherwise — let  us  live 
at  Home."  Here,  amidst  those  darkened 
and  brightened  associations  which  are  woven 
in  the  warp  and  woof  of  our  deepest  expe 
rience.  Here,  where  gentle  memories  steal 
upon  us  with  the  shadows  of  the  twilight, 
and  for  ever  tapestry  the  walls.  Here,  where 
we  have  held  delightful  intercourse  with 
man,  and  secret  communion  with  God. 
Here,  where  we  have  tried  to  do  our  duty, 
and  exercise  our  love,  and  to  drink  with 
patience  the  sweet  and  bitter  which  our 
Father  mingles  in  life's  mysterious  cup. 
Here,  where  old  friends  are  always  cherished 
and  new  ones  gladly  come.  Here,  where 
the  dearest  ties  of  earth  have  bound  us  in 
a  family  circle;  and  though  here  and  there 
we  find  broken  links,  we  still  keep  hold  of 
them,  and  they  draw  us  up. 

And  when  on  this  familiar  hearth  our  own 
vital  lamp  burns  low,  and  the  golden  bowl 
begins  to  shudder  and  the  silver  cord  to 
untwine,  let  our  last  look  be  upon  faces  that 
we  best  love  ;  let  the  gates  that  open  into  the 
7* 


154:    HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


celestial  City  be  these  well-known  doors — and 
thus  may  we  also  die  at  Home  !" 

And  this  instinct  of  Home  is  not  attached 
merely  to  earthly  conditions,  but  mingles 
with  those  aspirations  which  flow  into  the 
illimitable  future.  As  in  the  vast  city  we 
seek  some  enclosure  of  our  own — some  place 
of  shelter  for  our  heads,  of  sympathy  for  our 
hearts ;  so,  respecting  the  destiny  of  the  soul. 
In  spite  of  all  our  philosophy,  we  cannot  be 
satisfied  with  the  conception  of  a  mere  immate 
rial  essence  floating  hither  and  thither  in  im 
mensity.  The  intellect  looks  eagerly  forward  to 
a  boundless  and  excursive  state ;  but  the  affec 
tions,  the  sentiments,  yearn  for  some  locality 
— some  spot  of  residence  and  repose.  We  can 
not  help  cherishing  the  conception  of  a  place 
where  our  friends  are  grouped  together,  and 
whither  we  shall  go,  though  to  be  united  in 
wider  and  more  glorious  relations.  And, 
knowing  110  better  name  for  it,  with  eyes  of 
hope  and  tearful  rapture,  we  look  up  and  call 
it  "  Home." 


THE  ALLIES  OF  THE  TEMPTER. 


DISCOURSE    VI. 

THE   ALLIES  OF  THE  TEMPTER. 

He  that  is  not  with  me  is  against  ine. — MATTHEW  xii.  30. 

ONE  of  the  discourses  of  the  preceding  series 
was  devoted  to  a  consideration  of  the  vices — 
especially  the  three  prominent  vices — of  great 
cities.  I  propose  at  the  present  time  to  speak 
of  the  Influences,  more  or  less  direct,  by  which 
these  and  kindred  evils  are  encouraged.  Yice, 
and  moral  corruption  of  any  kind,  no  doubt 
has  its  roots  in  the  gross  hearts  and  in  the 
perverted  appetites  of  men.  But  the  most 
superficial  observer  must  see  that  these  are 
nourished  not  merely  by  their  native  soil,  but 
by  the  social  atmosphere  which  spreads  around. 
Of  course  character  constitutes  the  man,  and, 
however  this  may  be  affected  by  circumstances, 
it  enfolds  the  consciousness  of  an  original  per- 


158      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


sonality  acting  upon  and  through  and  in  spite 
of  its  conditions.  Nevertheless,  the  ingre 
dients  of  this  very  personality  are  assimilated 
out  of  these  conditions,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
limit  or  define  the  subtile  elements  that  blend 
in  the  deepest  currents  of  a  man's  nature.  It 
is,  at  least,  a  simple  truism  that  he  differs  in 
one  state  of  society  from  what  he  is  in  another. 
And,  therefore,  among  the  forces  which  help 
make  up  his  moral  condition,  we  must  cal 
culate  the  social  forces.  His  virtues  are  not 
all  self-sustained,  and  his  vices  draw  nutriment  • 
from  fine  and  remote  channels.  It  would  be 
an  interesting  process  to  analyze  our  own 
habits  and  temper  and  cast  of  thought,  and 
find  how  much  of  this  is  involved  with  our 
physical  relations.  The  air  we  breathe,  the 
house  in  which  we  dwell,  the  very  way  in 
which  it  fronts  the  sun,  the  degrees  of  light 
and  of  shade  that  fall  upon  us  with  the  flying 
hours,  all  weave  their  delicate  influences  into 
the  tisiL  ^  of  our  being.  And  how  much  that 
we  do  not  suspect  comes  to  us,  day  by  day,  in 
social  intercourse,  in  the  bearing  of  friends,  in 
the  tone  and  air  of  conversation,  in  the  mere 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     159 


magnetism  of  the  parlor  or  the  street !  How 
much  to  strengthen  or  to  weaken  us  ;  to  clear 
or  to  cloud  our  moral  atmosphere ;  to  make 
us  fresh  and  decisive,  or  to  slowly  sap  our 
virtue  !  But  it  is  a  more  solemn  task  to  com 
pute  the  influences  that  proceed  from  us,  and 
to  discover  how,  unknown  to  ourselves,  we  are 
swaying  the  circles  of  other  lives.  Why,  the 
mightiest  forces  go  silently.  You  do  not  see 
the  gases  that  compose  the  vital  air.  You  do 
not  feel  the  aroma  that  steals  along  loaded 
with  poison,  or  wafts  a  blessing  through  the 
sick  man's  window.  You  do  not  hear  the 
electric  pulse  that  beats  in  the  summer  light 
and  in  the  drop  of  dew.  Neither  can  you 
estimate  the  mysterious  attraction  that  plays 
all  through  this  network  of  social  relations, 
nor  the  energy  of  good  or  of  evil  with  which 
it  is  charged  not  merely  from  your  words 
and  deeds,  but  from  the  still  reservoir  of  your 
example. 

When  I  look  around  at  the  prevalent  vices 
of  the  city,  then,  and  at  its  various  forms  of 
corruption,  I  am  not  willing  to  rest  with  the 
mere  assertion,  that  all  this  is  the  fruit  of  per- 


160      HUMANITY   IN   THE   CITY. 


sonal  sin  and  folly  on  the  part  of  those  who 
have  yielded  to  temptation.  It  is  the  fruit  of 
personal  sin  and  folly.  And  we,  perhaps,  in 
our  serene  respectabilities,  shrink  back  and 
wonder  at  it.  It  is  strange — is  it  not  ? — that 
the  young,  the  fair,  the  gifted,  should  yield 
themselves  to  that  arch-deceit  which  has 
allured  and  ruined  men  for  six  thousand 
years  ?  Is  it  not  the  same  old  guilt,  the  same 
sophistry  and  foolishness,  here  in  New  York, 
that  it  always  has  been  ?  Did  it  not  bear  the 
same  Circean  cup  through  the  halls  of  Nineveh 
and  Babylon,  and  fling  Caesars  and  Alexanders 
to  the  ground?  Did  it  not  wear  the  same 
seductive  smile  and  harlot  tinsel  when  it 
walked  the  streets  of  Tyre,  and  reclined  in  the 
decorated  chambers  of  Egypt  ?  And  will  not 
its  votaries  find  now,  as  then,  that  it  entices 
with  the  embrace  of  death  and  the  fascination 
of  hell?  Why  should  they  thus  float  upon 
the  very  rim  of  this  great  whirlpool,  and  not 
notice  the  groans  that  come  up  from  its  depths ; 
and  see  that  its  phosphoric  illusion  is  mixed 
with  fiery  flakes  of  torment  and  the  foam  of 
despair  ?  It  is  indeed  wonderful  that  so  many 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     161 


should  be  thus  deluded  over  and  over  again  ; 
so  many  noble  energies  thrown  away,  so  many 
sanctions  trampled  upon,  so  many  bright  hopes 
quenched  for  ever.  It  is  wonderful  that  any 
being  made  in  the  form  of  man,  should  cast 
down  his  prerogatives  and  wallow  like  the 
beast.  Sufficient  evidence  of  sin  and  folly  in 
those  who  do  this,  to  be  sure ;  but  in  what 
way  do  these  allurements  present  themselves  ? 
"What  are  the  resources  and  entrenchments  of 
these  vices,  by  which  they  act  upon  human 
appetite  and  passion  ?  You  point  me  to  bril 
liant  windows  and  gay  apartments ;  to  spark 
ling  glasses,  and  shining  heaps,  and  shapes  of 
painted  shame.  "  These,"  you  say,  "  are  the 
forms  which  the  Tempter  assumes.  Under 
smiling  features  and  fair  garlands,  he  hides  at 
first  that  hideousness  which  in  due  time  is 
revealed  to  his  victims.  From  the  lighted 
vestibules  which  open  so  easily  to  the  touch, 
and  where  all  seems  only  a  coronation  of 
youthful  pleasure  and  natural  joy,  the  feet  of 
men  slide  downward  into  those  abysses  which 
are  hidden  from  the  public  gaze,  and  over  whose 
depths  the  blackness  of  darkness  broods."  And 


162      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


all  this,  again,  is  true.  These  are  the  ways  in 
which  the  Tempter  works.  But  is  there 
nothing  but  this  to  explain  the  power  which 
evil  has  upon  men,  in  the  midst  of  the  great 
city?  These  manifold  allurements,  these 
haunts  of  infamy  and  shambles  of  destruction — • 
I  see  them  standing  upon  strange  foundations. 
I  see  them  propped  by  these  very  influences 
to  which  I  have  alluded ;  influences  of 
social  condition  and  individual  example. 
They  would  not  be  so  formidable,  they 
would  not  stand  so  long,  were  it  not  that 
respectability  in.  its  daily  walk  and  conver 
sation  ;  and  social  culture  in  thousands  of 
homes ;  and  even  justice  in  its  lofty  seat ; 
lend  them  support.  "He  that  is  not  with 
me  is  against  me,"  said  Jesus ;  and,  taking 
this  proverb  as  a  rule,  a  good  many  people 
may  be  surprised  to  find  that,  in  one  way 
and  another,  they  are  Allies  of  the  Tempter. 
The  allies  of  the  Tempter,  I  propose  to 
v  speak  of  now — not  the  forms  of  Temptation, 
which  I  have  already  illustrated.  Nor  do 
I  intend  to  dwell  uppn  those  direct  condi 
tions  of  moral  evil,  out  of  which  vice  and 


ALLIES    or    THE    TEMPTER.     163 


crime  grow  as  spontaneously  as  weeds  out  of 
a  damp  and  neglected  soil — those  wide  seed 
fields  of  ignorance  and  abject  poverty  which 
lie  around  us.  But  the  more  remote  and 
indirect  causes  it  may  be  profitable  for  us 
to  consider ;  and  to  these  I  now  proceed. 

I  observe,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
Tempter  has  one  Ally  in  Public  Sanction. 
There  are  sources  of  vice  and  crime  that  are 
permitted  and  encouraged  by  Law.  I  hardly 
need  specify  the  prominent  instance  to  which 
I  allude.  But  I  am  not  aware  of  a  more 
enormous  public  inconsistency  than  what  is 
termed  "the  License  System" — the  system 
of  permitting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drinks 
in  a  degree,  and  of  restricting  them  in  a 
degree.  For,  by  this  method,  either  a  moral 
wrong  is  committed,  or  else  a  civil  one.  If 
these  drinks  are  an  individual  and  public 
injury;  if  they  distribute  the  seeds  of  dis 
ease,  crime,  death,  and  every  form  of  social 
misery ;  then  what  right  have  we  in  any 
respect  to  set  upon  them  the  solemn  sanction 
of  a  Law  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are 
a  benefit  to  mankind  ;  a  good  gift  of  Provi- 


164     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


dence,  as  some  seem  to  think;  why  should 
we  hamper  their  circulation?  Why  should 
we  allow  one  man  the  privilege  of  distri 
buting  such  a  blessing,  and  forbid  another 
who,  no  doubt,  is  equally  zealous  for  the 
public  good? 

But  this  very  system  is  a  confession  by 
public  opinion,  in  its  most  authentic  form 
of  expression,  that  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
drinks  is  an  evil.  "  Only,"  we  are  told, 
"  as  it  is  a  prevalent  and  deep-seated  evil, 
it  must  be  regulated"  But  how  can  we 
regulate  an  irregularity?  How  can  you 
regulate  an  obstruction  that  is  involved  with 
the  springs  of  a  machine,  or  the  works  of 
a  clock?  The  only  possible  method  obvious 
to  common  sense,  would  be  to  remove  the 
obstruction :  and  it  would  be  thought  the 

O 

most  foolish  speculation  conceivable  for  one 
to  spend  his  ingenuity  in  contriving  some 
way  to  keep  the  obstruction  where  it  is, 
and  yet  to  keep  the  clock  going  as  it  ought. 
If  it  moved  regularly,  the  matter  referred 
to  would  not  be  an  obstruction ;  and  if  it  did 
not,  the  contrivance  to  keep  it  there  would 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     165 


be  a  help  to  the  obstruction.  Now,  I 
consider  this  great  vice  of  Intemperance 
a  decided  obstruction  in  the  clock-work 
of  an  individual  man,  or  the  more  general 
mechanism  of  society.  It  transforms  a  great 
many  faces  into  bad  dial-plates,  disturbs  the 
pendulum  of  public  order,  makes  people  go 
much  too  fast,  and  renders  them  liable  to  strike 
at  all  times.  Now,  if  a  man,  or  a  community, 
can  be  made  to  go  just  as  well  with  it  as  with 
out  it,  we  certainly  need  no  legislation,  for 
there  is  no  obstruction.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  it  is  essentially  an  irregularity,  the  only 
rational  metliod  is  to  get  rid  of  its  accessories 
altogether.  To  enact  some  way  in  which  the 
irregularity  shall  work,  is  to  confirm  and 
sanction  the  irregularity.  And  the  license- 
system — -for  I  wish  to  be  plain  and  specific 
here — confirms  and  sanctions  the  agents  of 
intemperance.  It  indicates  a  way  in  which 
the  irregularity  may  work. 

And  not  only  is  vice  thus  aided  by  the  Law. 
The  existence  of  such  a  sanction  engenders 
either  an  error  or  a  moral  wrong.  For  it 
indicates  that  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drinks  is 


166      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


a  public  benefit,  which  is  false ;  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  it  is  lawful  to  uphold  an  evil. 
The  same  principle  carried  out  by  individuals, 
would  excuse  almost  any  fault.  The  man  who 
steals  a  loaf  of  bread  may  contend  that  it  is  a 
necessary  expedient ;  and  he  who  nils  an 
empty  purse  at  his  neighbor's  expense,  only 
endeavors  to  regulate  an  irregularity. 

But  suppose  we  make  the  system  a  strict 
one,  what  process  should  be  employed  ?  Pro 
bably  you  would  say — "break  up  all  these 
filthy  and  low  haunts ;  all  these  places  where 
the  habitually  intemperate,  the  degraded,  the 
wretchedly  poor  congregate  ;  and  let  these 
beverages  be  sold  only  in  respectable  places 
and  to  respectable  people."  But  is  this  really 
the  best  plan  ?  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  quite 
reasonable  to  maintain  that  it  is  better  to  sell 
to  the  intemperate  than  to  the  sober — to  the 
degraded  than  to  the  respectable — for  the  same 
reason  that  it  is  better  to  burn  up  an  old  hulk 
than  to  set  fire  to  a  new  and  splendid  ship.  I 
think  it  worse  to  put  the  first  glass  to  a  young 
man's  lips,  than  to  crown  with  madness  an  old 
drunkard's  life-lone  alienation — worse  to  wake 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     167 


the  fierce  appetite  in  the  depths  of  a  generous 
and  promising  nature,  than  to  take  the  carrion 
of  a  man,  a  mere  shell  of  imbecility,  and  soak 
it  in  a  fresh  debauch.  Therefore,  if  I  were 
going  to  say  where  the  License  should  be 
granted  in  order  to  show  its  efficacy,  I  would 
say — -take  the  worst  sinks  of  intemperance  in 
the  city,  give  them  the  sanction  of  the  Law, 
and  let  them  run  to  overflowing.  But  shut 
up  the  gilded  apartments  where  youth  takes 
its  first  draught,  and  respectability  just  begins 
to  falter  from  its  level.  Close  the  ample  doors 
through  which  enters  the  long  train  of  those 
who  stumble  to  destruction  and  reel  into  quick 
graves,  and  let  the  flood  overwhelm  only  the 
maimed  and  battered  conscripts  that  remain. 
Besides,  it  is  better  to  see  vice  as  it  really  is, 
than  as  it  sometimes  appears.  The  danger  of 
intemperance  is  when  it  assumes  this  very 
garb  of  respectability,  and  sits  in  the  radiant 
circle  of  fashion  attended  by  wit  and  beauty 
and  social  delight.  Let  us  see  the  Tempter, 
not  as  he  seems  when  he  throws  out  his  earliest 
lures,  in  festal  garments  and  with  roses  around 
his  brow ;  but  as  he  looks  when  fairly  engaged 


168     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


in  his  work,  showing  his  genuine  expression. 
Let  us  see  this  vice  of  intemperance  in  its 
results,  as  they  teem  and  darken  here  in  the 
midst  of  our  city  life.  Lay  bare  its  channel — let 
us  see  to  its  very  depths — where  it  flows  over 
the  wrecks  of  human  happiness,  and  over  dead 
men's  bones.  Lay  bare  its  festering  heaps  of 
disease,  its  madness,  its  despair,  its  domestic 
desolation,  its  reckless  sweep  over  all  order  and 
sanctity  ;  and  thus,  tracing  it  from  its  sources 
under  glittering  chandeliers  and  in  fonts  of 
crystal,  we  shall  be  able  to  say — "  this  is  the 
real  element  which  exists  and  does  its  wrork, 
by  public  connivance  and  with  the  sanction 
of  Law!" 

If  you  ask  me  then,  whether  I  think  that  a 
statute  of  absolute  prohibition  would  stop  this 
flowing  curse,  I  reply  that  at  least  it  would  put 
the  influence  of  authority  on  the  right  side. 
It  would  lend  it  the  force  of  consistent 
endeavor.  As  it  is,  it  would  be  far  better  if 
the  public  sanction  had  no  expression ;  for 
now  it  only  confirms  and  guarantees  the  evil. 
Its  power  is  exerted  not  in  the  right5  but  in 
the  wrong  direction.  It  is  an  ally  of  the 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTEK.     169 


tempter.  For  the  spirit  of  everlasting  Justice 
and  Benevolence,  speaking  as  it  were  by  the 
mouth  of  Jesus,  says — "  He  that  is  not  with 
me  is  against  me." 

But  I  observe,  in  the  second  place,  that  the 
forces  of  temptation  in  the  city  are  nourished 
\>j public  neglect.  In  individual  experience  it 
will  be  found,  I  think,  that  sins  of  omission 
are  more  numerous  and  are  worse  than  sins  of 
commission.  If  we  examine  our  lives  closely, 
we  shall  discover  that  our  moral  indebtedness 
comes  even  less  from  what  we  have  done,  than 
from  what  we  ought  to  have  done.  And  this 
individual  experience  has  a  counterpart  in 
social  conditions.  How  many  evils  among  us 
grow  up  under  the  shadow  of  inoperative  laws 
— laws  which  have  a  voice  and  nothing  else — 
nay,  hardly  a  voice,  so  seldom  are  they  heard 
even  to  speak.  They  appear  to  have  been 
enacted  merely  as  a  compliment  to  decency, 
and  they  remain  in  the  statute-book  as  "  idle 
as  painted  ships  upon  a  painted  ocean."  The 
dens  of  debauch  keep  open  doors  night  and 
day ;  the  saloons  of  profligacy  send  out  their 
cards  of  invitation ;  the  gambler  rattles  his 

8 


170      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


triumphant  dice ;  but  excursive  policemen 
never  see,  and  vigilant  magistrates  never  hear ! 
Some  provision  of  nature  has  imparted  a  very 
singular  quality  to  the  optic  powers  of  the  one, 
and  the  auditory  nerves  of  the  other.  The 
laws  against  this  vice,  or  that  custom,  stand 
fixed  and  silent ;  and  as  for  putting  them  in 
operation,  one  would  as  soon  think  of  pulling 
up  so  many  grave-stones.  They  are  the  grave 
stones  of  a  dead  public  sentiment — the  stum 
bling-blocks  of  a  blind  justice,  that  too  often 
shakes  hands  with  the  very  guilt  which  it  pro 
fesses  to  condemn.  I  do  not,  by  any  means, 
believe  that  everything  is  to  be  accomplished 
by  law.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  profoundest 
results  are  to  be  accomplished  by  it.  But,  if 
it  possesses  any  efficacy  at  all,  it  consists  in  its 
power  to  repress  open  and  shameless  wrong  ; 
and  where  any  such  wrong  is  open  and  shame 
less,  public  neglect  is  the  cause,  and  such  pub 
lic  neglect,  therefore,  is  an  Ally  of  the  Tempter. 
And  let  us  consider  the  enormity  of  such  evils. 
In  every  great  city  there  are  some  omissions 
of  executive  duty,  which,  though  grievous  to 
be  borne,  are  noticed  with  good  humor.  But 


ALLIES   OF  THE  TEMPTEK.     171 


there  are  moral  swamps,  sending  up  their  foul 
steam  to  pollute  the  common  light ;  there 
are  kennels  of  uncleanness,  running  with  the 
waste  of  human  lives,  sweeping  along  with 
the  death-gurgle  of  human  souls ;  there  is  a 
dry-rot  of  impurity  infecting  the  town-air, 
withering  the  dearest  sanctities  of  society  and 
of  home — and  over  this  kind  of  evil  we  cannot 
be  facetious.  Think  how  much  is  risked  here, 
and  how  much  is  lost !  Domestic  happiness, 
reputation,  honor,  health,  order,  the  prospects 
of  the  young,  the  peace  of  the  old — Fathers,  the 
hopes  of  your  sons !  Mothers,  the  interests 
of  your  daughters  !  and,  though  speaking  may 
have  little  effect,  say  whether  we  ought  not  to 
speak,  and  to  speak  indignantly,  of  the  ne 
glect  which  lets  these  evils  spread  with  deadly 
luxuriance,  and  winks  at  them  as  though  they 
were  harmless  ? 

But,  my  friends,  what  do  we  mean  by 
"  public  sanction,"  or  "  public  neglect  ?" 
There  are  some  convenient  synonyms  which 
help  us  to  cover  up  our  personal  responsibility 
• — help  us  to  transfer  our  own  sense  of  duty  to 
a  vague  secondary  agent,  and  keep  peace  with 


172     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


our  own  consciences.  And  yet  they  are  only 
synonyms,  after  all.  Now  this  term  "public" 
is  but  another  word  for  the  aggregate  of  our 
personal  obligations,  and  does  not  for  a  single 
moment  rid  us  of  our  share  in  the  general 
influence.  The  real  point  of  my  present  topic 
is  this — you  and  I  and  every  other  individual 
involved  in  this  network  of  social  relations, 
are  helping  or  weakening  the  force  of  these 
prevalent  evils.  And  it  may  arouse  us  to 
some  decision  of  conduct  to  consider  how  the 
most  respectable— those  who  would  shrink 
with  horror  from  these  foul  customs — are, 
nevertheless,  Allies  of  the  Tempter.  And  I 
might  state,  as  a  comprehensive  proposition, 
that  every  man  is  an  Ally  of  the  Tempter,  who 
does  not  put  forth  a  conscious  and  positive 
moral  energy  ;  who  does  not  habitually  throw 
his  example  and  his  influence  in  the  right 
direction.  It  is  not  enough  that  he  abstains 
from  wrong  himself — that  he  is  chaste,  and 
temperate,  and  upright,  and  unimpeached. 
For  perhaps  the  most  hopeless  people,  morally 
speaking,  are  those  people  who,  according  to 
their  own  confession,  "  have  never  done  any 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     173 


harm."  There  is  a  good  prospect  for  those 
who  are  trying  to  grow  better,  however  they 
may  slip  and  flounder.  There  is  hope,  on  the 
other  hand,  for  the  desperately  wicked — for 
the  very  violence  of  one  extreme  precipitates 
the  other ;  and  sometimes  the  best  and  purest 
souls  have  been  swept  by  a  thunder-shower  of 
sin.  But  those  who  rest  upon  the  fact  that 
they  "  have  never  done  any  harm,"  by  being  so 
easily  contented  show  but  little  moral  vitality. 
There  is  no  aspiration  in  their  natures.  They 
seem  to  have  no  particular  mission  in  the 
universe ;  for,  if  they  have  never  done  any 
harm,  they  have  done  little  else.  They  are 
poorly  fitted  for  this  earth,  which  demands  the 
effort  of  all  our  faculties  ;  poorly  fitted  for 
heaven,  whose  inhabitants  would  not  make 
harmlesness  their  chief  characteristic.  Their 
residence  and  their  paradise  might  be  a  great 
exhausted  receiver,  where  there  is  no  gra 
vitation  to  draw  them  down,  and  no  air  to 
send  them  up.  But,  in  truth,  these  people  de 
ceive  themselves.  Every  man  exerts  a  posi 
tive  influence,  and  cannot,  if  he  would,  be  a 
mere  negation  in  the  world.  In  the  great  con- 


174      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


flict  of  good  and  evil  there  is  no  middle 
ground.  There  are  no  compromises  in  God's 
government,  and  neutral  men  are  the  devil's 
allies.  "  He  that  is  not  with  me,  is  against 
me." 

Let  us  see,  then,  how  possible  it  is  that  we 
may  contribute  to  the  force  of  evil  in  the  City. 
In  other  words,  let  us  inquire — in  what  way 
do  respectable  and  harmless  people,  as  they 
deem  themselves,  become  Allies  of  the 
Tempter? 

In  the  first  place,  by  their  customs.  And, 
chief  of  all,  by  the  custom  of  an  intense  and 
inconsiderate  selfishness.  How  many  there 
are  who  require  no  other  sanction  for  what 
they  do  than  "  that  pleases  me,"  or  "  this  grati 
fies  me !"  It  is  wonderful  what  a  mighty 
agent  self  is,  estimated  by  its  own  standards. 
It  is  the  hero  of  every  exploit,  the  centre  of 
every  event,  and  the  oracle  of  all  opinions. 
It  interprets  the  purpose  of  the  universe ;  it 
finds  out  exactly  what  the  world  was  made 
for.  At  least,  a  good  many,  apparently,  have 
ascertained  that  the  world  was  made  for  them, 
and  that  they  were  sent  into  it  to  get  what 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     175 


gratification  they  can.  And  it  appears  sadly 
out  of  tune  to  them,  if  it  does  not  serve  this 
end.  In  anything  they  do,  therefore,  they 
consider  only  selfish  consequences.  They  do 
not  apprehend  the  universe  in  its  great  har 
mony.  They  do  not  trace  out  its  web  of  mu 
tual  relations — a  braid  of  light  held  in  the 
hand  of  Infinite  Love.  They  do  not  know  the 
sympathy  that  shoots  in  the  crystal,  and  shim 
mers  in  the  aurora,  and  beats  in  the  heart  of 
the  ocean,  and  makes  the  silent  music  that 
rolls  from  sphere  to  sphere  along  the  glittering 
scale  of  heaven.  If  they  did,  they  would  dis 
cover,  perhaps,  that  the  social  world  is  con 
structed  upon  the  same  plan  ;  and  man  cannot 
be  an  alien  from  the  common  humanity  how 
ever  hard  he  may  try.  Yes  :  concerning  any 
custom,  you  have  not  only  yourself  to  consider, 
but  the  bearings  of  its  influence  throughout 
this  tissue  of  hearts  and  minds  with  which  you 
are  involved.  You  cannot  isolate  yourself 
from  your  responsibilities.  You  cannot  shut 
yourself  within  comfortable  walls,  and  say — • 
"  Here  is  the  limit  of  my  obligations,  and  here 
I  will  do  as  I  please!"  You  may  say  this,  but 


1T6      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


you  do  not  rid  yourself  of  these  claims. 
Through  imperceptible  aqueducts  your  in 
fluence  runs  abroad ;  and  what  you  do,  and 
what  you  are,  contributes  particles  of  disease 
or  health  to  the  social  atmosphere  that 
envelopes  all.  I  look  around,  then,  upon  the 
vices  and  even  the  crimes  of  the  City,  and  I 
say  that  some  of  them  find  root  in  the  customs 
of  the  respectable  and  the  fashionable.  Profli 
gacy,  which  we  shrink  from  in  its  open  pro 
fession,  and  which  appears  abominable  in  its 
avowed  haunts,  finds  encouragement  wherever 
the  libertine  receives  the  smile  of  beauty,  and 
the  guilt  of  the  meanest  sort  of  a  man  is 
excused  on  account  of  an  agreeable  manner. 
Thus  the  poison  of  the  snake,  and  the  blight 
of  his  venom  on  many  a  reputation  and  many 
a  womanly  heart,  is  all  forgotten  in  the  draw 
ing-room,  because  of  the  fascination  of  his  hiss 
and  the  glitter  of  his  skin.  Again,  the  Tempter 
has  an  Ally  in  the  world  of  Traffic,  wherever 
bad  things  are  stamped  with  respectable  names 
— when,  for  instance,  swindling  is  called 
"  smartness,"  and  robbery  "  per-ceiitage." 
Among  people  of  less  note  in  the  world  these 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMP  TEE.     ITT 


matters  are  named  "cheating"  and  "stealing," 
and  some  of  them  may  take  punishment  the 
more  reluctantly  because  they  cannot  perceive 
the  difference.  And,  still  again,  I  think  that 
a  little  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  is  like  the 
little  matter  that  kindles  a  great  fire,  and  that 
there  would  not  be  so  much  intemperance  if 
there  were  not  so  many  "  temperate"  drinkers. 
The  sluices  of  the  grog-shop  are  fed  from  the 
wine-glasses  in  the  parlor ;  and  there  is  a  lineal 
descent  from  the  gentleman  who  hiccups  at 
his  elegant  dinner-table  to  the  sot  who  makes 
a  bed  of  the  gutter. 

"Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?"  asked  the 
first  man  who  reddened  his  hands  with  the 
violated  life  of  a  man ;  and  the  answer  came 
crying  upward  in  a  voice  of  blood  from  the 
ground.  "  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?"  you 
ask,  perhaps,  with  a  tone  of  surprise  or  scorn. 
You  ask  O  !  respectable  gentleman  or  lady ; 
O !  man  in  the  thick  of  business ;  O  !  self- 
indulgent  Epicurean  ; — and  the  answer  comes 
to  you  not  from  the  ground  merely,  but  from 
the  universal  air — the  answer  of  kindred 
pulses,  of  confluent  sympathies,  of  an  insepara- 


ITS      HUMANITY  IN  THE   CITY. 


ble  humanity — though  it  swarms  in  rags,  and 
riots  in  shame,  and  seems  far  off  from  you  in 
its  hell  of  debasement  and  despair.  Nay, 
perhaps  the  answer  comes  very  near  to  you. 
It  may  come  from  some  one  of  your  own 
household.  You  may  ask — "  Who  has  tempted 
even  my  very  child  ? ' '  Ask  Yourself— •' '  Need 
he  have  gone  outside  this  very  door  to  find 
temptation?"  Ah!  perhaps  you  are  not 
merely  an  Ally  of  the  Tempter,  but  have 
furnished  conscripts  for  his  vast  army.  Your 
children  perhaps  will  rise  up  and  call  you — 
not  "  blessed."  And  see,  too,  what  kind  of 
conscripts  the  Tempter  draws  from  the  ranks 
of  respectable  and  especially  of  fashionable 
life.  Mere  striplings,  so  dwarfed  and  dwindled 
by  precocious  dissipation  that  they  look  like 
feeble  specimens  of  wax-work  ;  whose  faculties 
— the  evident  product  of  a  thin  soil — have 
been  developed  by  bottles  of  wine  and  fast 
horses ;  whose  memories  are  too  short  to 
remember  their  parents ;  whose  ideas  are  too 
artificial  to  touch  any  genuine  spring  of 
nature  ;  who  are  ashamed  of  true  manliness, 
and  make  a  miserable  farce  of  what  they  call 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.     179 


"manliness;"  and  who,  as  they  parade  the 
streets,  make  up  a  sort  of  bombastic  interlude 
in  the  drama  of  "  Young  America." 

But,  whatever  view  we  may  take  of  this 
general  subject,  it  is  evident  that  we  cannot 
easily  exaggerate  the  influence  of  "  respectable 
and  fashionable"  customs  upon  the  forces  of 
temptation.  And,  surely,  it  becomes  each  of 
us  to  consider  the  tendencies  of  his  own  exam 
ple,  and  ask — "  Is  it  toward  the  right  or  the 
wrong  ?  Is  it  for,  or  against  the  good?" 

Again,  the  Tempter  finds  help  from  our 
indifference.  This,  indeed,  may  be  the  qualifi 
cation  which  should  be  applied  to  the  remarks 
I  have  just  made.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  the  evil  influences  which  go  out  from  the 
customs  alluded  to,  are  the  results  of  intention. 
They  spring  up  in  a  lack  of  interest  and  of  the 
consciousness  of  duty.  They  grow  rank  and 
luxuriant  in  neglect.  If  we  were  only  in 
earnest  as  to  these  vices  and  crimes  and  guilty 
customs ;  if  we  would  only  wake  from  our 
apathy,  to  reflection  and  conviction  ;  how  soon 
would  they  diminish,  and  how  many  of  them 
would  pass  away ! 


180      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


But,  as  comprehensive  of  this,  and  in  fact 
all  the  rest  that  may  be  said,  I  observe,  finally, 
that  the  temptations  of  a  great  city  are  strong 
because  of  a  lack  of  the  spirit  of  Christian 
love.  In  one  respect,  especially,  is  it  true  that 
men  in  general  are  not  with  Jesus,  and  there 
fore  are  against  him.  They  have  not  his  sympa 
thies,  his  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  his  broad,  deep, 
universal  charity.  Baneful  customs,  and  cold 
indifferentism  grow  up  in  a  soil  that  is  watered 
by  no  living  and  unselfish  love.  They  show 
the  dryness  and  the  baseness  of  our  social  state. 
And  it  is  not  merely  in  the  lack  of  active  and 
practical  love  that  the  Tempter  grows  strong ; 
but  in  the  exercise  of  a  prevalent  uncharitable- 
ness.  Too  many  of  us  have  no  disposition  but 
scorn  for  the  fallen ;  see  no  blessed  possibilities 
in  them ;  do  not  detect  any  divine  ray  glim 
mering  in  the  thick  darkness — do  not  discern 
the  precious  soul,  like  a  crown-jewel,  in  its 
filthy  and  battered  casket.  And  if  this 
paralyzes  and  kills  the  springs  of  our  own 
activity,  need  I  say  how  the  hearts  of  the 
offending  are  repelled  and  hardened  in  such 
a  hostile  atmosphere  ?  iNeed  I  say  how 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.    181 


desperate  is  the  Ishmaelitish  conviction ;  the 
sense  of  isolation  and  antagonism ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  how  powerful  and  healing,  even  for 
the  most  distant  and  hopeless,  is  the  sweet 
attraction  of  sympathy  ?  And  what  are  we,  that 
we  dare  to  cherish  this  exclusive  horror,  this 
pitiless,  unrelenting  scorn  ?  When  we  consider 
our  own  slips,  compared  with  our  temptations ; 
the  account  to  which  God  may  hold  us,  not 
the  smooth  standards  of  human  respectability  ; 
how  much  higher  is  our  own  moral  level,  that 
we  feel  no  chords  of  a  common  humanity 
reaching  down  even  to  those  fallen  ones,  and 
cannot  stoop  to  touch  them?  My  friends, 
it  may  be,  after  all,  that  the  Tempter  has  no 
surer  ally  than  the  averted  face  of  contempt 
and  the  word  of  unsoftened  rebuke,  driving 
the  barb  of  conscious  guilt  deeper  and  despair 
ingly  into  a  brother's  soul. 

And,  as  I  look  upon  this  mass  of  social  evil, 
these  steaming  wells  of  passion,  these  solid  for 
tifications  of  habit  where  the  Tempter  is 
entrenched,  I  ask  how  is  all  this  to  pass  away  ? 
And  the  answer  is — only  by  the  spirit  of 


182     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


Christian  Love,  sweeping  these  impediments 
of  selfishness  from  the  heart,  and  animating  ITS 
to  effort.  With  Christ  the  work  certainly  can 
be  done.  In  this  Gospel-beating  amidst  the 
guilt  and  sorrow  of  the  world  like  the  pulsa 
tions  of  a  Divine  heart — in  the  few  leaves  of 
this  Testament — there  is  an  illimitable  power, 
before  whose  inspiration  in  the  purposes  and 
deeds  of  men  no  evil  thing  shall  stand.  And 
the  spirit  and  exercise  of  this  Love  is  Religion. 
It  is  the  up-shot  of  all  that  is  preached — it  is 
the  open  and  tangible  test  of  every  mystic 
experience  that  drifts  through  the  soul — it  is  so 
deep,  so  broad,  and  runs  so  far,  that  it  compre 
hends  all  requirements ;  and  they  who  cherish 
it,  and  practice  it  in  the  low  and  dark  and 
desolate  places  of  the  world,  are  the  true  saints. 
Hothing  else  will  do  in  its  place.  Not 
Churches,  nor  creeds,  nor  rituals,  nor  respecta 
bilities.  Without  it  we  are  not  friends  of 
Christ,  nor  co-workers  with  God.  Without  it 
we  deepen  the  channels  of  human  woe,  and 
prop  the  strong-holds  of  wickedness.  Without 
it,  whatever  we  may  not  be,  we  are  Allies  of 


ALLIES    OF    THE    TEMPTER.    183 


the  Tempter.  The  Saviour  says  to  each  of  us 
to-day,  placed  amidst  these  antagonistic  forces 
of  Life — •"  He  that  is  not  with  me  is  against 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  POOR, 


DISCOURSE    VII. 

THE    CHILDREN*  OF    THE    POOR. 

The  young  children  ask  bread,  and  no  man  breaketh  it 
unto  them. — LAMENTATIONS  iv.,  4. 

THE  writer  of  these  words  bewailed  a  state 
of  War  and  Captivity — a  state  of  things  in 
which  the  great  relations  of  human  life  are 
broken  up  and  desecrated.  But  it  is  strange 
to  find  that  the  most  flourishing  forms  of  civil 
ization  involve  conditions  very  similar  to  this. 
For,  if  any  man  will  push  beyond  the  circle 
-of  his  daily  associations,  and  enter  the  regions 
of  the  abject  poor,  he  will  see  how  the  hostile  v 

*  I 

forces  ol  privation,  and  hunger,  and  unguided 
impulse,  have  laid  waste  the  sanctities  of 
existence  in  the  abodes  and  in  the  breasts  of 
thousands  as  with  sword  and  with  tire.  There 


188     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


is  no  essential  difference  in  starvation,  whether 
it  ensues  from  the  ravages  of  an  invading  host 
or  from  the  lack  of  means.  Temptation  is  a 
fierce  legion;  and  death  looks  no  more  terrible 
under  a  Babylonian  helmet,  than  it  does  upon 
the  gaunt  faces  of  men  who  die  upon  the  bare 
floor  or  wallow  in  rags.  The  worst  calamity 
in  a  calamity — if  I  may  use  such  an  expression 
—the  most  deplorable  thing  in  any  of  the 
great  evils  of  life,  occurs  when  the  selfish 
instinct  within  us  is  aroused,  by  want  or  terror, 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  overwhelms  all  social 
limitations,  absorbs  every  sympathy,  and 
j  leaves  nothing  but  an  intense  individualism. 
This  is  the  result  in  a  sudden  shock  of  danger, 
when  the  alarmed  instinct  is  the  first  that  starts 
to  the  summons.  Sometimes,  in  protracted 
peril,  it  grows  into  an  actual  delirium  of  self 
ishness,  and  drowns  even  the  sense  of  fear — as 
men  amidst  the  horrors  of  a  shipwreck  will 
commit  the  most  brutal  excesses,  and  even  rob 
the  dying.  And  thus,  in  the  desolation  of 
Jerusalem  as  described  by  Jeremiah,  the  very 
yearnings  of  maternity  were  swallowed  up  by 
this  fierce  instinct. 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      189 


"  The  hands  of  tender-hearted  women  cooked  their  own 

children  ; 
They  were  their  food,  in  the  destruction  of  the  daughter 

of  my  people." 

And  results  as  bad  as  this  appear  in  the 
conditions  of  poverty,  suffering,  and  social 
degradation.  Every  fine  chord  of  human 
nature  is  seared,  sodden,  torn  from  its  sockets, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  moral  faculties  and  by 
the  pressure  of  animal  wants.  The  poor  man 
is  conscious  of  nothing  but  privation  and 
suffering.  He  gazes  at  the  power  and  disci 
pline  and  pomp  of  society  all  about  him,  not 
as  an  ally  but  as  a  captive,  or  as  a  savage  foe. 
The  whole  wears  the  aspect  of  a  besieging 
army,  and  the  Ishmaelitish  feeling  predomi 
nates.  In  the  midst  of  the  City  he  becomes 
an  Arab  of  the  desert,  a  robber  of  the  rock. 
Now,  it  makes  little  difference  whether  the 
circle  is  wider  or  narrower,  whether  the  siege 
is  a  moral  or  a  literal  one,  whether  the  agent 
is  the  sword  or  the  condition  of  society.  The 
essential  results  will  be  the  same.  The  civili 
zation  of  New  York  may  and  does  hem  in  a 
desolation  as  fearful  in  kind  as  that  of  Jem- 


190     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 

salem,  and  involves  sufferings  as  keen,  and 
wakes  up  instincts  as  fiercely  selfish.  And 
one  whose  sympathies  with  the  wide  humanity 
are  as  fresh  and  clear  as  the  Prophet's  were 
with  the  woes  of  his  people,  might  draw  closer 
within  these  various  circles  of  prosperity  and 
refinement  and  activity,  that  lend  such  attract 
iveness  to  the  great  city — this  magnificent  girdle 
of  commerce,  embossed  with  the  symbols  of 
all  nations — these  arteries  of  traffic,  filled  with 
circulating  wealth  and  power — these  groups 
of  fashion  and  of  beauty,  whose  cheapest  jewels 
would  open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  ten 
thousand  souls  ;  he  might  pass  within  all  these 
bands  of  "  civilization,"  and  in  some  alley,  or 
"  Five  Points,"  sit  down  and  weep  for  the 
calamity  of  his  brethren.  He  would  behold 
there  War  and  Captivity  enough  to  fill  an 
entire  volume  of  Lamentations.  Captivity ! 
were  men  ever  bound  by  a  darker  chain,  or 
V  trampled  by  a  harder  heel,  than  those  victims 
'  of  destitution  and  of  their  own_  passions  ? 
War !  did  the  Jew  behold  any  hosts  more  ter 
rible  pressing  into  Jerusalem,  than  you  and  I 
might  see  if  we  looked  about  us?  The 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      191 

entrenched  filth  that  all  day  long  sends  its  4 
steaming  rot  through  lane  and  dwelling, 
through  bone  and  marrow,  and  saps  away  the 
life.  Cold  that  encamps  itself  in  the  empty 
fire-place,  and  blows  through  the  broken  door, 
and  paralyzes  the  naked  limbs.  Hunger  that 
takes  the  strong  man  by  the  throat,  and  kills  the 
infant  in  its  mother's  arms.  And  still  another 
traitorous  legion  that,  equipped  with  the  fasci 
nations  of  the  bottle  and  the  shamelessness  of 
harlotry,  appeals  to  the  passions  of  the  brutal 
and  proffers  comfort  to  the  hearts  of  the  sad. 
War  and  Captivity  in  the  midst  of  peace  and 
refinement — is  it  not,  my  friends  ?  And,  with 
all  this,  may  we  not  expect  that  fierce  instinct 
of  selfishness  which  overwhelms  every  other 
impulse,  and  breaks  out  in  crime  ?  Ah  !  and__j 
do  we  not  discover  a  counterpart  to  that  sad 
dest  feature  of  all  in  such  circumstances — 
a  desecration  even  of  the  parental  instinct  ? 
Fathers,  beating  their  sons  into  the  career 
of  guilt ;  and  mothers — worse  than  those  who 
made  horrid  food  of  their  own  children- 
offering  their  daughters  to  the  Moloch  of 
lust  in  the  shape  of  some  "gentlemanly" 


192     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 

devil     with    a    portable    liell     in    his    own 
breast ! 

And  it  seems  to  me  that  if  one  with  a 
prophet  vision  and  a  prophet  heart,  widened 
to  the  compass  of  humanity,  should  thus  go 

^  f  into  these  waste  places,  nothing  would  affect 
him  more  ;  nothing  would  strike  a  deeper  and 
tenderer  chord  in  his  bosom ;  than  the  condition 
of  these  little  ones  amidst  the  siege  and  terror. 
And,  comprehending  all  their  need — their 
moral  as  well  as  their  physical  destitution — 
he  might  exclaim,  as  describing  the  most  piti 
able  spectacle  of  all — "  The  young  children 
ask  bread,  and  no  man  breaketh  it  unto  them." 
And  I  think  that  every  one  of  you  who  has 
reflected  at  all  upon  this  subject,  must  feel 
that,  of  all  the  conditions  of  Humanity  in  the 

*  darker  regions  of  the  City,  there  is  none  more 
sorrowful,  more  momentous,  and  at  the  same 
time  more  hopeful,  than  the  condition  of  the 
Children  of  the  Poor.  And  I  do  not  call  your 
attention  to  this  subject  to-night  with  the 
expectation  of  proclaiming  any  fresh  doctrine, 
or  offering  any  novel  suggestion,  but  because 
in  a  series  of  discourses  like  the  present  I  can- 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOK.      193 


not  consistently  pass  by  such  a  prominent 
phase  ;  and  more  especially  because  I  wish  to 
push  the  old  truth  from  your  heads  into  your 
hearts,  so  that  you  may  be  excited  to  imme 
diate  and  practical  action. 

I  purpose  then,  in  regard  to  the  Children  of 
the  Poor,  to  maintain  one  or  two  principles,  to 
state  a  few  facts,  and  to  consider  some  reme 
dies  /  and  these  will  constitute  the  divisions 
of  my  discourse. 

In  the  first  place  then,  I  lay  down  a  general 
principle  which  divides  itself  into  two  specific 
principles.  I  maintain  that  we  are  under 
peculiar  obligations  in  regard  to  children. 
Of  all  our  duties,  except  those  which  we  owe 
directly  to  God — of  all  the  ways  in  which  we 
are  required  to  show  our  duty  to  God — I  know 
of  none  more  peremptory  than  this.  It  is  the 
obligation  of  an  instinct  that  appears  every 
where  ;  that  swells  in  the  breasts  of  the  rudest 
people ;  that  mingles  with  the  most  tender  and 
beautiful  and  sacred  associations  of  human  life. 

Childhood  and  Children  !  is  there  any  heart 
so  sheathed  in  worldliness,  or  benumbed  by 
sorrow,  or  hardened  in  its  very  nature,  as  to 
9 


194:       11  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N      T  HE      0  I  T  Y  . 


feel  no  gentle  thrill  responding  to  tliese  terms? 
Surely,  in  some  way  tliese  little  ones  have 
"  touched  the  finer  issues  "  of  our  being,  and 
given  us  an  unconscious  benediction.  Some 
of  you  are  Mothers,  and  have  acquired  the 
holiest  laws  of  duty,  the  sweetest  solicitudes, 
the  noblest  inspirations,  in  the  orbit  of  a  child's 
life.  And,  however  wide  the  circle  of  its  wan 
dering,  you  have  held  it  still,  by  some  tether 
of  the  heart,  bound  to  the  centre  of  a  fathom 
less  and  unforgetting  love.  Some  of  you  are 
Fathers,  and  in  the  opening  promise  of  your 
sons  have  built  fresh  plans  and  enjoyed  young 
hopes,  and  even  in  the  decline  of  life  have 
walked  its  morning  paths  anew.  Many  of  us 
have  felt  our  first  great  sorrow,  and  the  break 
ing  up  of  the  spiritual  deep  within  us,  by  the 
couch  of  a  dead  child.  Clasping  the  little  life 
less  hand,  we  have  comprehended,  as  never 
before,  the  reality  of  death,  and  through  the 
gloom,  covering  all  the  world  about  us,  have 
caught  sudden  glimpses  of  the  immortal  fields. 
And,  all  of  us,  I  trust,  are  thankful  that  God 
has  not  created  merely  men  and  women, 
crimped  into  artificial  patterns,  with  selfish 


CHILDREN    o  F    T  11  E    POOR.      195 


speculation  in  their  eyes,  with  sadness  and 
weariness  and  trouble  about  many  things  carv 
ing  the  wrinkles  and  stealing  away  the  bloom ; 
but  pours  in  upon  us  a  fresh  stream  of  being 
that  overflows  our  rigid  conventionalisms  with 
the  buoyancy  of  nature,  plays  into  this  dusty 
and  angular  life  like  the  jets  of  a  fountain,  like 
floods  of  sunshine,  upsets  our  miserable  dig 
nity,  meets  us  with  a  love  that  contains  no 
deceit,  a  frankness  that  rebukes  our  quibbling 
compliments,  nourishes  the  poetry  of  the  soul, 
and,  perpetually  descending  from  the  threshold 
of  the  Infinite,  keeps  open  an  arch-way  of  mys- 
stery  and  heaven. 

And  now,  just  consider  what  a  child  is — 
this  being  thus  fresh  from  the  unknown  realm, 
tender,  plastic,  dependent ;  a  bud  enfolding 
the  boundless  possibilities  of  humanity,  and 
growing  rank,  running  to  waste,  or  opening  in 
beauty,  as  you  turn,  neglect,  or  support  it — 
just  consider  what  a  child  is  ;  and  he  must  be 
far  gone  in  indifference  or  depravity,  who  does 
not  recognize  the  specific  duty  growing  out  of 
a  general  obligation  which  is  forced  upon  us 
by  the  intrinsic  claims  of  that  child's  nature. 


196     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


If  we  were  appealed  to  by  nothing  else  but  its 
drooping  reliance  and  natural  wants,  there 
would  be  enough  to  draw  our  attention  to 
every  phase  of  childhood  that  comes  within 
our  sphere. 

But  our  purpose  this  evening  calls  us  away 
from  these  brighter  images  of  childhood,  to 
consider  those  wrho  are  surrounded  with  the 
1  most  savage  aspects  and  the  wrorst  influences 

X 

of  the  world.  And,  beside  the  absolute  duty 
which  is  imposed  upon  us  by  their  natural  posi 
tion,  I  observe  that  the  Children  of  the  Poor 
create  an  appeal  to  prudential  considerations. 
They  form  a  large  proportion  of  those  groups 
known  in  every  city  as  "  The  Dangerous 
Classes."  For  they  will  be  developed  some 
how.  If  they  receive  not  that  attention  which 
is  demanded  by  their  position ;  if  they  are 
9  left  to  darkness  and  neglect ;  still,  it  is  no  mere 
mass  of  negative  existence  that  they  consti 
tute.  There  is  vitality  there  and  positive 
strength,  in  those  lanes  and  cellars,  put  forth 
for  evil  if  not  drawn  towards  the  good.  We 
must  not  confound  ignorance  with  torpor  of 
spirit  or  bluntness  of  understanding.  One  of 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      197 


the  most  remarkable  characteristics  of  vagrant 
children  is  a  keen,  precocious  intellect.  A 
boy  of  seven  in  the  streets  of  a  city  is  more 
developed  in  this  respect  than  one  of  fourteen 
in  the  country — a  development,  of  course, 
which  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the  antago 
nisms  with  which  the  child  has  had  to  contend, 
and  the  devices  which  have  been  inspired  by 
the  sheer  pressure  of  want.  He  has  been 
pitched  into  the  sea  of  events  to  sink  or  swim, 
and  those  sharpened  faculties  are  the  tentacles 
put  forth  by  an  effort  of  nature  in  order  to 
secure  a  hold  of  life.  And  there  is  something 
very  sad  and  very  fearful  in  this  precocity. 
The  vagrant  boy  has  known  nothing  of  the 
stages  of  childhood,  conducting  with  beautiful 
simplicity  from  one  timid  step  to  another,  and 
gradually  forming  it  for  the  realities  of  the 
world.  But  the  neglected  infant  has  wilted 
into  the  premature  man,  with  his  old  cunning 
look,  blending  so  fantastically,  so  mournfully, 
with  the  unformed  features  of  youth.  Know 
ing  the  world  on  its  worst  side — knowing  its 
hostility,  its  knavery,  its  foulness,  its  heartless 
materialism — knowing  it  as  the  man  does  not 


198      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


know  it  who  has  only  breathed  the  country 
air,  and  looked  upon  the  open  face  of  nature. 
Is  it  not  very  sad,  my  friends,  that  the  vagrant 
boy  should  know  so  much ;  and,  without  one 
hour  of  romance,  one  step  of  childish  inno 
cence  and  imagination,  should  have  gone  clear 
through  "  the  world "  which  so  many  boast 
that  they  understand — the  knave's  world,  the 
libertine's  world,  the  world  of  the  skeptical, 
scoffing,  Ishmaelitish  spirit  ?  And  yet  he  has 
so  little  real  knowledge — there  is  such  a  cloud 
*  of  ignorance  and  moral  stupor  resting  upon  his 
brain  and  heart !  So  much  of  him  is  merely 
animal,  foxy,  wolfish,  and  this  sharpened  intel 
lect  only  a  faculty,  an  instinct,  a  preternatural 
organ  pushed  out  to  gain  subsistence  with. 
It  is  a  terrible  anomaly,  and  yet,  I  say,  it  is 
none  the  less  an  active  power,  and  shows  us 
that,  however  neglected,  the  child  of  the 
abject  poor  is  not  dormant  or  undeveloped. 
In  the  first  place,  very  likely,  it  has  developed 
itself  into  a  dogged  atheism — a  sulky  unbe 
lief.  The  brain  of  the  vagrant  boy  is  active 
with  speculation  as  well  as  with  practice — he 
has  some  theory  of  this  life  in  which  lie  lives, 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      199 


and,  as  might  be  expected,  a  theory  woven 
with  the  tissues  of  his  own  experience ;  woven 
with  the  shadows  and  the  lurid  lights  of  his 
lot.  A  gentleman  passing  one  day  through 
the  streets  of  Edinboro',  saw  a  boy,  who  lived 
by  selling  fire-wood,  standing  with  a  heavy 
load  upon  his  back,  looking  at  a  number  of 
boys  amusing  themselves  in  a  play-ground. 
"  Sometimes,"  says  the  writer,  "  he  laughed 
aloud,  at  other  times  he  looked  sad  and  sor 
rowful.  Stepping  up  to  him  I  said — c  Well, 
my  boy,  you  seem  to  enjoy  the  fun  very 
much  ;  but  why  don't  you  lay  down  your  load 

of  sticks  ?' 'I  wan't  thinking 

about  the  burden-— I  wan't  thinking  about  the 
sticks,  sir.'  i  And  may  I  ask  what  you  were 
thinking  about  ?'  '  Oh,  I  was  just  thinking 
about  what  the  good  missionary  said  the  other 
day.  You  know,  sir,  I  don't  go  to  church,  for 
I  have  no  clothes ;  but  one  of  the  mission 
aries  comes  every  week  to  our  stair,  and  holds 
a  meeting.  He  was  preaching  to  us  last  week, 
and  among  other  things  he  said — "  Although 
there  are  rich  folks  and  poor  folks  in  this 
world,  yet  we  are  all  brothers."  Now,  sir, 


300      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


just  look  at  these  lads — every  one  of  them 
has  fine  jackets,  fine  caps,  with  warm  shoes 
and  stockings,  but  I  have  none  ; — So  I  was  just 
thinking  if  those  were  my  brothers,  it  doesn't 
look  like  it,  sir — it  doesn't  look  like  it.  See, 
sir,  they  are  all  flying  kites,  while  I  am  flying 
in  rags — they  are  running  about  at  kick-ball 
and  cricket ;  but  I  must  climb  the  long,  long 
stairs,  with  a  heavy  load,  and  an  empty 
stomach,  whilst  my  back  is  like  to  break.  It 
doesn't  look  like  it,  sir — it  doesn't  look  like 
it.' '  Or,  take  the  following  instance,  which  I 
extract  from  the  Records  of  one  of  the  Bene 
volent  Societies  of  our  own  city  :  "  Can  you 
read  or  write  ?  said  the  visitor  to  a  poor  boy. 
Marty  hung  his  head.  I  repeated  the  ques 
tion  two  or  three  times  before  he  answered, 
and  the  tears  dropped  on  his  hands,  as  he  said, 
despairingly,  and  I  thought  defiantly — '  !Nb, 
sir,  I  can't  read  nor  write  neither.  God  don't 
want  me  to  read,  sir.  Indeed,  so  it  looks 
likely.  Didn't  He  take  away  my  father  since 
before  I  can  remember  him  ?  And  haven't  I 
been  working  all  the  time  to  fetch  in  some 
thing  to  eat,  and  for  the  fire,  and  for  clothes  ? 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      201 


I  went  out  to  pick  coal  when  I  could  take  a 
basket  in  my  arms — and  I  have  had  no  chanco 
for  school  since.' '  Now  this  is  fallacious  and 
dangerous  reasoning,  my  friends ;  neverthless, 
it  is  reasoning,  and  shows  that  the  mind  of  the 
poor  boy  is  not  inactive  as  to  the  problems  of 
life.  And  the  intellect  which  is  so  acute  in 
theory  will  soon  drive  to  practice.  Stimulated 
by  that  selfish  instinct  which,  as  I  have 
shown,  will  under  pressure  absorb  every  other 
consideration,  he  speedily  commences  the 
career  of  crime.  And  have  you  ever  looked  ft 
into  this  matter  of  crime  ?  Or  do  you  know  it 
only  as  a  monstrous  fact  in  the  social  mecha 
nism,  and  in  the  records  of  human  nature  ? 
If  so,  it  would  be  \vell  for  us  to  consider  the 
way  in  which  it  appears  to  the  violator  of 
right' — the  way  in  which  things  look  to  him  who 
works  inside  the  web  of  guilt.  And  we  may 
be  sure  that  it  does  not  look  to  him  as  it  does 
to  us  from  the  midst  of  respectabilities  and 
comforts,  or  from  a  high  intellectual  and  moral 
stand-point.  Now  I  am  not  going  to  justify  *• 
crime,  or  to  indulge  any  sentiment  upon  the 

subject.     But.  really,  one  of  the  most  practi-  ^ 

>> 
9* 


202       H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N      T  HE      C  I  T  Y  . 


cal  questions  that  can  be  asked  is — "  Why  is 
this  one,  or  that  one,  a  criminal  ?"  Do  I  say 

<.  that  the  guilt  should  be  imputed  to  the  condi 
tion — that  it  is  all  owing  to  circumstances  ? 

5  ~No  :  but  I  do  say  that,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  crime  is  no  proof  of  special  depravity 
apart  from  general  depravity,  and  that  the  cir 
cumstances  have  just  so  much  weight  as  this — 
that  put  you  or  me  in  those  same  circum 
stances,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  we  should  be 

>% 

criminals  too.  In  the  same  circumstances,  my 
friends  ;  and  this  involves  a  great  deal.  It 
involves  an  hereditary  taint  stamped  in  the 
very  mould  of  birth ;  it  involves  physical 
misery  ;  it  involves  intellectual  and  moral  de 
stitution  ;  it  involves  the  worst  kind  of  social 
influence ;  it  involves  the  pressure  of  all  the 
natural  appetites,  rioting  in  this  need  of  the 
body  and  this  darkness  of  the  soul.  And  it 
implies  no  suspicion  of  a  man's  moral  standard 
— it  is  no  insult  to  his  self-respect — to  tell  him 
that,  under  similar  conditions,  it  is  extremely 
probable  he  would  have  been  a  criminal  too. 
Reasoning  in  an  arm-chair  is  very  proper,  and 
often  very  accurate,  but  the  logic  of  starva- 


C  II  I  L  I)  R  E  N      OF      THE      P  O  O  R  .         203 


tion  is  too  peremptory  for  syllogisms.  There  is 
a  sort  of  compound  made  up  of  frost,  damp,  e 
dirt  and  rags,  which  works  double  magic  :  it 
sometimes  converts  a  thief  into  a  philosopher, 
and  sometimes  a  philosopher  into  a  thief.  I 
am  not  speaking,  however,  of  the  mere  im 
pulse  of  animal  want,  but  of  this  condition 
where  the  counter-acting  forces  are  dormant. 
And  for  this  reason  you  and  I  can  draw  no  im 
moral  conclusion  from  the  doctrine  of  circum 
stances.  We  could  not  be  like  the  moral  leper 
who  infests  the  dark  regions  of  the  city — we  * 
could  not  be  like  the  child  of  sin  and  shame 
who  broods  there — without  losing  our  identity. 
In  contemplating  this  matter,  the  feeling  for 
ourselves  should  be  simply  one  of  humility 
and  thankfulness.  We  have  grown  up  in  pure 
light  and  air,  appeased  with  the  comforts,  and 
braced  by  at  least  the  current  morality  of 
society.  But,  concerning  those  degraded  ones, 
what  some  call  "  charity "  is  no  more  than 
"justice."  It  is  no  more  than  justice  to  say 
— all  the  conditions  being  considered — that  as 
to  a  vast  majority  of  them,  crime  is  no  proof 
of  special  depravity.  It  is  the  genuine 


204:     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


humanity  that  is  there — not  base  metal.  It 
came  from  the  common  mint — somewhere  you 
will  find  upon  it  a  faint  scar  of  the  Divine 
Image — but  the  coin  was  pitched  into  this 
bonfire  of  appetite  and  blasphemy,  and  it  has 
come  out  a  cinder.  Thus,  proud  and  happy 
Mother,  might  your  boy  have  been  a  defaced 
and  distorted  being,  kicked,  cuffed,  knotted 
with  frost,  blackened  with  bruises  ;  a  pick 
pocket,  a  wharf-rat,  a  panel-thief;  with  his 
intellect  sharpened  to  an  intense  and  impish 
cunning — only  knowing  that  it  is  a  hard 
world,  and  he  must  get  out  of  it  what  he  can. 
Thus,  fond  Father,  might  your  daughter,  whom 
the  very  winds  must  salute  with  courtesy, 
have  gone  through  the  streets  at  night — a 
painted  desolation,  a  reeling  shame.  Do  you 
think  these  were  made  of  better  texture  than 
those  who  blacken  and  fester  yonder?  Do 
you  think  that  when  these  last  came  into  the 
world  there  was  no  milk  in  mothers'  breasts 
for  them,  no  Divine  solicitude  about  them,  no 
tenderness  in  the  heart  of  Christ ;  but  that 
they  were  the  refuse,  whirled  into  existence  as 
the  great  wheel  of  Life  shaped  the  finer  mould 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      205 


of  the  respectable  and  the  happy  ?  I  tell  you 
that  God  made  them  complete  souls,  and 
stamped  His  Image  upon  them — but  they 
have  fallen  into  the  dark  and  dreary  ways ; 
the  fierce  names  have  hardened  them  ;  the 
foul  air  has  tainted  them  ;  and  their  special 
depravity,  over  and  above  the  common  de 
pravity,  is  the  infection  of  circumstances. 
The  young  boy,  the  young  girl,  driven  by 
necessity  and  sharpened  with  cunning,  run  into 
crime.  They  are  all  educated •  for  circum 
stances — not  merely  books — are  education  ; 
but  this  is  their  seminary,  and  the  alphabet  is 
spontaneous,  and  the  science  of  quick  growth. 
And  with  the  consequences  of  all  this  exposure 
and  temptation  we  are  all  mixed  up ;  and,  if 
the  claim  of  the  child  in  its  intrinsic  position 
does  not  move  us,  prudential  considerations 
should — the  consideration  of  what  society  does 
suffer,  and  must  suffer,  if  these  conditions  are 
not  changed. 

Such,  then,  are  some  of  the  principles 
involved  with  my  theme.  Let  us  in  the 
second  place  pass  to  consider,  very  briefly,  a 
few  of  the  facts.  Brieflv,  because  I  have  no 


206      II  r  M  A  N  i  T  Y    i  N    T  it  E    CITY. 

time  for  details,  and  because  the  general 
state  of  the  case  is  but  too  well  known  to 
yon. 

It  is  a  fact,  then,  that  there  are  among  us 
a  vast  number  of  children  in  the  most 
miserable  and  perilous  condition.  In  the 
year  1849,  the  Chief  of  Police  reported  the 
destitution  and  vice  among  this  class  of 
vagrants  as  almost  "  incredible."  In  that 
report  he  says — "  The  offspring  of  always 
careless,  generally  intemperate,  and  oftentimes 
dishonest  parents,  they  never  see  the  inside  of 
a  school-room,  and  so  far  as  our  excellent 
system  of  public  education  is  concerned,  it  is 
to  them  a  nullity."  It  appears  that,  at  that 
time,  in  12  wards  of  the  city,  there  were  2,955 
of  these  children,  of  whom  two-thirds  were 
females  between  the  ages  of  8  and  16.  I 
am  informed,  also,  by  the  Chief  of  Police, 
that  100  per  cent,  should  now  be  added  to 
this  estimate ;  not  all  attributable,  of  course. 
to  growth  in  depravity,  but  to  the  increase 
of  population,  especially  by  immigration.  I 
understand,  moreover,  that  within  the  past 
year  there  have  been  ten  thousand  arrests, 


CHILDREN    OF    T  n  E    POOR.      207 


and  live  thousand  commitments  of  boys  alone 
between  the  ages  of  5  and  15. 

These  are  naked  statistics,  affording  yon 
an  outline  of  the  actual  state  of  things. 
Need  I  paint  the  costume  and  the  scenery, 
and  describe  the  sad  and  awful  drama  in 
which  these  children  play  their  parts?  I 
could  not  if  I  would.  But  think  of  that  vast 
amount  of  young  life  running  to  waste, 
sweeping  through  the  sewers  of  the  social 
fabric,  an  under- current  of  taint  and  desola 
tion!  Think  of  them,  starved,  beaten,  driven 
into  crime  not  merely  by  necessity,  but  by 
the  very  hands  of  their  parents  !  and  think  of 
them  this  night,  cuddling  in  rags,  shivering 
on  straw,  cradled  in  reeking  filth,  drinking  in 
blasphemy  and  obscenity  and  cunning  policies 
of  sin,  under  that  dark  canopy  that  shuts  out 
social  sympathy,  and  hides  the  very  Face  of 
God.  And  if  you  have,  I  will  not  say 
parental  hearts,  but  human  souls,  you  will  ask 
if  there  ought  not  to  be  some  remedy,  and 
will  say  that  all  who  can  should  help  in 
administering  that  remedy. 

And    remedies    there    appear    to    be,    my 


208       H  r  M  A  x  r  T  Y    i  N    T  H  E    C  i  T  Y  . 


friends.  For,  while  I  said  that  there  is  no 
condition  in  the  city  more  sad  and  moment 
ous  than  that  of  these  children  of  the  poor, 
I  said,  likewise,  that  there  is  none  more 
hopeful.  The  essential  and  comprehensive 
remedy  of  all  I  indicated  in  the  close  of 
the  last  discourse,  and  shall  have  occasion  to 
dwell  upon  in  the  next.  That  remedy  is  the 
c  practical  operation  of  Christianity — first  of  all 
in  our  own  hearts,  and  then  flowing  out  in 
action.  I  mean  especially  the  method  of 
Jesus,  which  consisted  not  of  mere  teaching 
but  of  help — which  touched  not  only  the 
issues  of  the  sin-sick  soul,  but  the  weakness 
and  want  of  the  body.  To  the  demoniac, 
to  the  leper,  to  the  impotent  man  by  the 
pool,  he  brought  not  abstract  truths,  but 
words  of  healing  and  works  of  practical 
deliverance.  How  striking  is  the  fact 
that  the  freshest  and  noblest  charities  of 
this  nineteenth  century  are  only  develop 
ments  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Redeemer 
soothed  the  sorrows  and  vanquished  the  evils 
of  the  world !  For  those  institutions  which 

especially   excite   the    public   interest  at  the 
\*^ 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.       209 


present  day,  are  those  whose  plan  it  is  first  to 
remove  the  children  of  the  poor  from  those 
wretched  and  foul  conditions  upon  which  I 
have  laid  so  much  stress,  and  to  lead  them  to 
a  higher  culture  by  extending,  first,  the  hand 
of  temporal  relief.  They  aim  to  break  up  the 
sockets  of  custom,  and  to  introduce  the 
degraded  child  to  fresh  motives  of  action  and 
fields  of  endeavor ;  to  throw  around  him  the 
atmosphere  of  a  true  home,  and  to  blend  in 
tellectual,  and  moral,  and  religious  training 
with  that  true  charity  which  teaches  one  how 
to  assert  his  own  manliness,  and  support  him 
self  by  the  honest  labor  of  his  own  hands. 
]^"ow  I  do  not  wish  to  be  invidious,  I  am 
glad  that  such  a  constellation  of  philanthropic 
promise  has  risen  upon  the  dark  places  of 
the  abject  poor.  I  point  with  pleasure  to 
what  has  been  accomplished  in  the  Sahara  of 
the  Five  Points,  and  in  what  still  remains 
to  be  done  I  discern  a  field  broad  enough 
to  prevent  collision  and  dispute — broad 
enough  to  employ  the  means  and  the 
generous  energies  of  thousands.  "With  equal 
pleasure  I  refer  to  that  "  Juvenile  Asylum," 


210     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


with  its  noble  interposition  ere  the  feet  of 
the  erring  boy  shall  take  the  second  step  in 
crime,  and  which  has  recently  rendered  still 
more  efficient  its  system  of  labor  and  relief 
by  extending  the  benefit  to  girls.  But  as  I 
wish  this  evening  to  concentrate  your  sym 
pathies,  I  call  your  attention  especially  to 
the  institution  known  as  "  The  Children's  Aid 
/  Society,"  the  general  character  and  the  prac 
tical  results  of  which  I  will  briefly  state.  Its 
main  object  is  sufficiently  indicated  by  its 
name.  Its  machinery  is  simple,  and  acts  upon 
the  principle  just  laid  down.  It  seeks  first  to 
remove  the  poor  child  from  the  coil  of  evil 
influences  whicli  have  been  thrown  around 
him,  and  which  have  been  daily  strengthened 
by  the  sharpest  pressure  of  animal  necessities. 
It  comprehends  the  two-fold  benefit  of  educa 
tion  and  labor  in  its  system  of  "  Industrial 
Schools."  Of  these,  at  the  present  time,  in 
this  city,  there  are  eight,  in  which  a  multi 
tude  of  children  are  educated,  taught  to 
work,  supplied  with  a  warm  dinner  daily, 
and  with  such  clothing  as  they  can  learn  to 
make.  In  connection  with  these  there  is  one 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    P  o  o  B  .      211 


shoe-shop,  in  which  thirty  or  forty  boys 
earn  a  livelihood.  Another  object  of  this  soci 
ety  is  to  find  employment  for  its  beneficiaries 
out  of  the  city,  and  during  the  past  year 
places  in  the  country  have  been  found  for 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five,  where  their 
employers  treat  them  as  their  own  children. 

In  institutions  like  these,  then,  you  perceive 
the  indications  of  a  remedy  for  the  condition 
of  these  children  of  the  poor — a  system  of 
help  which,  gives  something  more  than  spirit 
ual  instruction  on  the  one  hand,  something 
more  than  mere  food  and  clothing  on  the 
other ;  which  combines  measures  of  relief 
and  nourishment  for  the  demands  of  our 
whole  nature  in  the  form  of  the  ignorant -and 
suffering  child ;  and  which,  better  than  all, 
lifts  him  out  of  the  humiliating  condition  of 
a  mere  pauper  or  dependent,  and  sets  him  in 
a  channel  of  manly  exertion,  self-development, 
and  self-support;  which  not  "only  does  the 
negative  work  of  removing  a  mass  of  evil 
from  society,  but  makes  for  it  the  positive 
contribution  of  an  improved  and  educated 
humanity.  I  do  not  say  that  all  the  relief  lies 


212     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


here,  that  it  will  do  all  that  is  needed,  or 
that  nothing  better  will  be  devised.  But  I 
think  the  tendency  of  these  institutions  is  the 
right  one,  and  that  they  indicate  the  way  in 
which  this  great  social  problem  is  to  be 
solved.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  that 
the  faith  which  we  cherish  in  such  a  system 
is  dead  without  works ;  and  that  something 
more  is  needed  than  a  few  model  institutions 
working  here  and  there.  This  matter  makes 
a  practical  claim  upon  us  all,  in  the  fact  that, 
in  one  way  or  another,  wre  may  all  help 
forward  this  method  of  relief — we  may  help 
it  forward  as  active  laborers  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  field,  as  teachers  and  mission 
aries,  or  contributors  of  our  goods  and 
money.  Each  knows  what  he  can  best  do— 
what  is  his  special,  Providential  call  in  the 
matter  ;  but  let  him  be  assured  that  he  has  a 
call ;  and  that  this  spectacle  of  exposed,  needy, 
suffering  childhood  is  not  a  mere  spectacle  for 
his  sympathies,  but  a  field  white  with  a  har 
vest  that  waits  for  his  effort.  Have  we 
nothing  but  sympathies  wherewith  to  answer 
the  poor  woman's  prayer — a  prayer  that 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      213 


echoes  through  so  many  hearts  in  this  great 
city — "  May  the  Lord  spare  my  Archy  from 
the  bad  boys,  and  from  taking  to  the  ways  of 
his  father  !" 

There  is  one  thing  which  strikes  me  as  very 
affecting  in  the  condition  of  any  child.  It  is 
when  that  condition  is  necessarily  a  melan 
choly  one — when  the  circumstances  which 
hem  it  around  cast  over  the  surface  of  that 
young  life  an  abiding  gloom.  A  melancholy 
child  !  What  an  anomaly  among  the  harmo 
nies  of  the  universe ;  something  as  incongru 
ous  as  a  bird  drooping  in  a  cage,  or  a  flower 
in  a  sepulchre.  The  musical  laughter  muffled 
and  broken ;  the  spontaneous  smile  trans 
formed  to  a  sad  suspicion  ;  and  the  austerities 
of  mature  life,  the  fearful  speculation,  and 
forecast  of  evil,  fixed  and  frozen  on  a  boy's 
face  !  And  then  the  sorrow  of  a  child  is  so 
absorbing — for  he  lives  only  in  the  present. 
In  the  afflictions  which  fall  upon  him,  man 
has  the  aid  of  reason  and  faith — he  looks 
beyond  the  present  issue,  he  detects  the  signi 
ficance  of  his  calamity,  and  strengthened  thus 
a  brave  heart  can  vanquish  any  sorrow.  But, 


214        II  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N     T  II  E      C  I  T  Y  . 


as  Ricliter  beautifully  says — •"  the  little  cradle, 
or  bed-canopy  of  the  child,  is  easier  darkened 
than  the  starry  heaven  of  man."  Surely, 
then,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  contribute  aught 
that  will  lighten  this  gloom,  and  place  the 
child  in  natural  conditions. 

But  there  is  one  phase  of  this  subject  which, 
in  its  appeal  to  us,  is  more  eloquent  than  all 
the  rest.  It  is  where  there  are  children  who 
stand  not  merely  in  the  intrinsic  claim  of  their 
childhood ;  or  in  their  touching  sadness ;  or 
pushing  their  energies  into  vice  and  crime ; 
but  nobly  struggling  against  the  tide  of  evil — 
struggling  to  bear  up  in  their  lot — enduring 
and  achieving  for  the  sake  of  those  who,  young 
as  these  children  are,  are  dependent  on  them. 
If  I  had  time,  I  think  I  could  write  a  "  Mar- 
tyrology  ;"  not  following  the  track  of  famous 
men,  whose  faces  look  out  upon  us  from  the 
brutal  amphitheatre  and  from  the  fire  with  a 
halo  of  glory  around  them,  and  whom  we  be 
hold,  by  the  vision  of  faith,  with  their  gory 
robes  transfigured  to  celestial  whiteness,  wraving 
palms  in  their  hands ;  but  tracing  out  incidents 
in  the  lives  of  some  of  the  children  here  in  our 


OF    THE    POOR.      215 


city — not  dead,  but  living  martyrs !  O  !  I 
think  I  could  write  such  a  Martyrology,  with 
blood  and  tears,  over  many  a  gloomy  thres 
hold,  on  the  walls  of  many  a  desolate  room  ; 
and  let  future  generations  come  and  read  it — 
a  fearful  record  of  human  suffering — a  sweet 
memorial  of  human  virtue — when  many  of 
these  old  woes,  we  trust,  shall  have  passed 
away  for  ever. 

Permit  me,  in  closing,  to  present  two  or 
three  incidents  illustrative  of  this  heroism 
and  sacrifice  among  the  Children  of  the 
Poor. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  account  of  a  writer 
who  tells  us  that  in  the  street  he  "  met  a  little 
girl,  very  poor,  but  with  such  a  sweet  sad  ex 
pression,"  adds  he,  "  that  I  involuntarily  stop 
ped  and  spoke  to  her.  She  answered  my 
questions  very  clearly,  but  the  heavy,  sad 
look  never  left  her  eyes  a  moment.  She  had 
no  father  or  mother.  She  took  care  of  the 
children  herself ;  she  was  only  thirteen ;  she 
sewed  on  check  shirts,  and  made  a  living  for 
them."  He  went  to  see  her.  "It  is  a  low, 


216       HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


damp  basement  her  home.  She  lives  there 
with  the  three  little  children,  whom  she  sup 
ports,  and  the  elder  sick  brother,  who  some 
times  picks  up  a  trifle.  She  had  been  washing 
for  herself  and  little  ones.  '  She  almost  thought 
that  she  could  take  in  washing  now,'  and  the 
little  ones  with  their  knees  to  their  mouths 
crouched  up  before  the  stove,  looked  as  if 
there  could  not  be  a  doubt  of  sister's  doing 
anything  she  tried.  'Well,  Annie,  how  do 
you  make  a  living  now?'  4I  sew  on  the  check 
shirts,  sir,  and  the  flannel  shirts;  I  get  five 
cents  for  the  checks,  and  nine  cents  for  the 
others;  but  just  now  they  wont  let  me  have 
the  flannel,  because  I  can't  deposit  two  dollars.7 
i  It  must  be  very  hard  work  ?'  c  O !  I  don't 
mind,  sir ;  but  to-day  the  visitors  came,  and 
said  we'd  better  go  to  the  poor-house,  and  I 
said  I  couldn't  like  to  leave  these  little  ones 
yet ;  and  I  thought  if  I  only  had  candles,  I 
could  sit  up  till  ten  or  eleven,  and  make  the 

shirts.' She  had  learned   everything 

she  knew  at  the  Industrial  School She 

never  went  to  church,  for  she  had  no  clothes, 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      217" 


but  she  could  read  and  write i  It  was 

very  damp  there,'  she  said,  '  and  then  it  was 
so  cold  nights.'  ' 

I  will,  in  the  next  place,  introduce  you  to  a 
garret-room,  six  feet  by  ten.  The  occupants 
are  a  poor  mother  and  her  son.  The  mother 
works  at  making  shirts  with  collars  and  stitched 
bosoms,  at  six  shillings  and  sixpence  per  dozen, 
for  a  man  who  pays  half  in  merchandise,  and 
who,  when  she  is  starving  for  bread,  puts  her 
off  with  calico  at  a  shilling  a  yard  that  is 
not  worth  more  than  fourpence  !  But  he  is 
not  the  martyr  in  the  case.  When  the  visitor 
entered,  her  son  George,  about  twelve  years 
old,  "  was  just  coming  in  for  dinner,  pale  and 
apparently  exhausted  by  the  effort  of  climbing 
the  stairs,  and  sank  down  upon  a  rough  plank 
bench  near  the  door."  He  worked  in  a  glass- 
factory,  earning  a  bare  subsistence.  "  He  is  a 
little  old  man  at  twelve,"  says  the  narrator, 
"the  paleness  of  his  sunken  cheeks  was  re 
lieved  by  the  hectic  flush ;  his  hollow  dry  eye 
was  moistened  by  an  occasional  tear ;  and  his 
thin  white  lip  quivered  as  he  told  rne  his  sim 
ple  story ;  how  he  was  braving  hunger  and 
10 


218     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


— for  he  cannot  live  long — -to  help  his 
mother  pay  the  rent  and  buy  her  bread. 
'Half-past  ten  at  night  is  early  for  him  to 
return,'  said  the  mother ;  '  sometimes  it  is 
half-past  eleven  and  I  am  sitting  up  for  him.' 
Sometimes,  in  the  morning,  she  finds  him 
awake,  '  but  he  don't  want  to  get  up,  and  he 
puts  his  hands  on  his  sides  and  says,  '  Mother, 
it  hurts  me  here  when  I  breathe.'  I  can 
work,  and  I  do  work,'  adds  she,  '  all  the  time 
— but  I  can't  make  as  much  as  my  little 
boy.'  " 

One  more  account.  It  is  of  a  beggar-girl 
who  "  lives,"  as  the  narrative  goes  on  to  say, 
"  in  a  rear  building  where  full  daylight  never 
shines — in  a  cellar-room  where  pure  dry  air  is 
never  breathed.  A  quick  gentle  girl  of  twelve 
years,  she  speaks  to  the  visitor  as  he  enters — 
'Mother  does  not  see  you,  sir,  because  she's 
blind.'  The  mother  was  an  old  woman  of 
sixty-five  or  seventy  years,  with  six  or  seven 
others  seated  around.  '  But  you  told  me  you 
and  your  mother  and  little  sister  lived  by 
yourselves.'  '  Yes,  sir — here  it  is  ;'  "  and  at  the 
end  of  the  passage  the  visitor  discovers  a  nar- 


CHILDREN    OF    THE    POOR.      219 


row  place,  about  five  feet  by  three.  The  bed 
was  rolled  up  in  one  corner,  and  nearly  filled 
the  room.  "  '  But  where  is  your  stove  ?'  'We 
have  none,  sir.  The  people  in  the  next  room 
are  very  kind  to  mother,  and  let  her  come  in 
there  to  warm — because,  you  know,  I  get  half 
the  coal.'  4  But  where  do  you  cook  your  food  ?' 
4  We  never  cook  any,  sir ;  it  is  already  cooked. 
I  go  early  in  the  morning  to  get  coal  and 
chips  for  the  fire,  and  I  must  have  two  baskets 
of  coal  and  wood  to  kindle  with  by  noon. 
That's  mother's  half.  Then  when  the  people 
have  eaten  dinner,  I  go  round  to  get  the  bits 
they  leave.  I  can  get  two  baskets  of  coal 
every  day  now ;  but  when  it  gets  cold,  and  we 
must  have  a  great  deal,  it  is  hard  for  me  to 
find  any — there's  so  many  poor  chaps  to  pick 
it.  Sometimes  the  lacHes  speak  cross  to  me, 
and  shut  the  door  hard  at  me,  and  sometimes 
the  gentlemen  slap  me  in  the  face,  and  kick 
my  basket,  and  then  I  come  home,  and  mother 
says  not  to  cry,  for  may  be  I'll  do  better  to 
morrow.  Sometimes  I  get  my  basket  almost 
full,  and  then  put  it  by  for  to-morrow ;  and 
then,  if  next  day  we  have  enough,  I  take  this 


220     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


to  a  poor  woman  next  door.  Sometimes  I  get 
only  a  few  bits  in  my  basket  for  all  day,  and 
may  be  the  next  day.  And  then  I  fast,  be 
cause,  you  know,  mother  is  sick  and  weakly, 
and  can't  be  able  to  fast  like  me.'  r 

These  my  friends,  are  some  of  the  "short 
and  simple  annals  of  the  poor."  But  those  of 
whom  Gray  spoke  rest  peacefully  in  the 
"  country  churchyard ;"  their  spirits  are  in 
heaven,  and  their  history  is  embalmed  in  his 
own  immortal  Elegy.  But  these  records  are 
of  those  who  yet  live  and  suffer — "  Martyrs 
without  the  palm." 

And  could  I  summon  them  here  to-night, 
and  would  the  Master  but  enter  as  when  upon 
earth,  surely  he  would  look  upon  them  in 
tender  pity ;  would  bless  them ;  would  take 
in  his  arms  those  whom  the  world  has  cast 
aside  and  overlooked.  Kay,  perhaps  he  would 
transfigure  their  actuality  into  their  possibility, 
and  we  might  see  "  the  angels  in  their  faces," 
pleading  with  us  before  the  Father's  throne  1 


THE   HELP  OF   RELIGION, 


DISCOURSE    VIII. 

THE  HELP   OF   RELIGION. 

For  here  have  we  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek  one  to 
come. — HEBREWS  xiii,  14. 

THEKE  are  a  good  many  people  who,  appa 
rently,  are  never  troubled  by  any  speculations 
arising  out  of  a  comprehensive  view  of  things. 
They  are  keenly  alive  to  all  objects  within 
their  sphere;  but  their  eyes  are  close  to  the 
surface,  and  their  experience  comes  in  shocks 
of  sensation,  and  shreds  of  perception.  They 
know  the  superficial  features  of  the  world  and 
its  conventional  expressions ;  are  conversant 
with  its  business  and  its  pleasures  ;  with  the 
market,  the  fashions,  the  town-talk,  the  worldly 
fortunes  of  their  neighbors.  Sometimes,  a 
powerful  affliction  startles  them  in  this  smooth 
routine,  and  for  a  moment  they  are  surprised 


224      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


to  find  how  wide  the  universe  is,  and  among 
what  great  realities  we  dwell.  But,  usually, 
their  existence  is  a  narrow  revolving  disc, 

O 

bringing  around  the  same  group  of  incidents 
and  the  same  associations,  morning,  noon,  and 
night.  They  comprehend  Life  as  they  com 
prehend  the  expanse  of  yonder  harbor,  dotted 
with  shifting  but  familiar  forms,  ruffled  by  a 
passing  wind  or  bright  under  a  summer  sun, 
and  whose  tides  duly  rise  and  fall.  But  they 
little  think  of  the  oceanic  vastness  which  it 
represents ;  and  how  its  oscillations  come  from 
great  currents  that  leap  out  of  the  Antarctic, 
and  swell  around  tropical  islands,  and  sweep 
the  lines  of  continents,  and  roll  in  the  Polar 
Sea. 

These,  therefore,  are  not  perplexed  by  ques 
tions  such  as  occur  to  him  who,  looking  be 
yond  his  own  worldly  interests  and  the  area  of 
daily  routine,  takes  into  view  the  scope  of 
being  and  the  profounder  phenomena  of 
human  life.  For  such  a  view  will  inevitably 
engender  speculation,  nor  can  he  rest  until  he 
obtains  some  theory  of  existence.  These  very 
conditions  of  Humanity  in  the  City,  for  in- 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     225 


stance — these  conditions  of  poverty,  and  respon 
sibility,  and  relationship,  and  privilege,  and 
strife,  and  toil — yea,  the  lessons  which  come  to 
us  from  the  crowd  as  it  flows  through  these 
streets ;  constitute  a  great  problem,  of  which 
every  thinking  man  will  seek  some  solution. 

Now,  throughout  this  entire  series  of  dis 
courses — although  I  have  not  deemed  it  neces 
sary  in  every  instance  to  make  a  specific 
application— I  have  assumed  that  you  and  I 
were  looking  upon  these  various  phases  of 
Humanity  from  the  Christian  stand-point,  and 
therefore  I  could  not  fitly  conclude  this  work 
without  indicating  the  Help  which  RELIGION 
affords  concerning  these  problems  of  exist 
ence. 

I  observe,  then,  that  while  it  may  seem 
very  simple  to  affirm  that  a  theory  does  not,  in 
any  case,  alter  facts /  yet  there  is  often  an 
advantage  in  laying  down  this  proposition. 
Eor  this  leads  us  to  understand  precisely  what 
a  theory  may  do.  It  does  not  alter  facts,  but 
it  throws  them  into  new  relations,  and  presents 
them  in  an  entirely  different  light.  Material 
ism,  for  instance,  is  a  theory  of  Life ;  and 
10* 


226     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


Christianity — in  which  term  I  include  not  only 
a  system  of  Doctrines,  but  of  practical  forces 
— is  also  a  theory  of  Life.  Now,  neither  of 
these  gets  rid  of  the  great  facts  of  existence. 
Men  sin  and  suffer  and  die,  whether  we  adopt 
the  one  system  or  the  other.  But,  surely, 
when  we  approach  these  facts  from  the  side  of 
Religion,  they  appear  in  very  different  lights, 
and  are  taken  up  with  very  different  results, 
from  their  appearance  and  effect  when  inter 
preted  by  the  creed  of  Unbelief.  It  would  be 
very  absurd  then,  because  Christianity  does 
not  instantly  abolish,  or  fully  explain,  all  these 
strange  and  darker  realities,  to  fall  back  upon 
the  opposite  ground  of  skepticism.  This  is 
only  receding  from  the  best  solution  to  the 
worst' — or,  rather,  to  no  solution  at  all.  For  I 
maintain  that  Christianity  gives  us  not  merely 
the  best,  but  the  only  solution  of  these  problems. 
It  will  be  my  purpose  in  this  discourse,  at 
least,  to  show  what  kind  of  help  Religion  does 
afford  for  Humanity  in  all  these  diverse  con 
ditions  ;  and,  having  done  this,  I  shall  leave  it 
to  your  own  convictions  to  decide  whether  it 
is  not  a  great  and  practical  Help  ;  and  whether 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     227 


there  is  any  other  help.  I  propose  to  illus 
trate  the  influence  of  Religion  to  this  effect, 
first — as  a  Conviction  /  second,  as  a  Working 
Power  ;  and  third,  as  an  Interpretation. 

I  say,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  religion 
furnishes  great  help  for  man  in  the  various 
issues  of  life,  when  he  becomes  actually  con 
vinced  that  its  truths  and  sanctions  are  genuine. 
In  other  words,  the  conception  of  a  moral  go 
vernment,  of  a  directing  Providence,  and  of 
eternal  realities,  vividly  apprehended  by  the 
intellect,  kept  fresh  in  the  heart,  and  assimila 
ted  to  the  entire  spiritual  nature,  is  a  personal 
inspiration.  It  elevates  the  platform  of  a  man's 
being,  so  that  all  things  appear  in  true  propor 
tion.  It  clears  his  vision  to  detect  principles, 
and  endows  him  with  moral  courage.  I  do  not 
know  that  I  can  better  suggest  its  influence  as 
a  help  here,  in  the  conditions  of  the  city,  than 
by  asking  you  to  imagine  what  would  be  the 
state  of  things  in  the  spheres  of  toil  and  traffic 
— in  all  the  multiform  relations  of  our  hu 
manity — if  men  really  apprehended  and  be 
lieved  it  ?  ft,  I  say — not  some  special  dogma 
or  institution,  but  the  absolute  spirit  and  truth 


228      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


of  Christianity.  For  I  do  not  think  that,  gene 
rally,  this  is  actually  credited.  I  think  that, 
with  many  professions  of  religion,  and  much 
outward  respect  for  it,  and  an  extensive  circu 
lation  of  vague  conceptions  about  it,  it  is  not 
commonly  felt  and  vitalized — it  is  not  appre 
hended  in  its  blessedness  and  power,  and  abso 
lute  excellence.  To  the  habits  of  the  soul  it 
does  not  represent  and  mean  realities  as  a 
written  contract  does,  or  a  bank-bill — some 
thing  that  men  precipitate  themselves  upon, 
and  that  sways  the  under-currents  of  their  ac 
tion.  New  York,  with  its  Broadway  and  its 
Wall  Street ;  with  its  proud  buildings  and  its 
bristling  masts  ;  is  a  reality — but  that  city  of 
which  the  text  makes  mention;  that  city 
which  good  men  seek,  and  which  in  the  Apo 
calypse  of  Faith  they  see ;  whose  splendors 
glitter  through  the  solemn  twilight;  nay, 
which  hems  them  around  for  ever,  and  shines 
down  upon  them  brighter  than  the  noonday 
sun  ;  to  thousands,  toiling,  sinning,  and  suffer 
ing  here,  is  not  a  reality.  For,  I  ask  you, 
my  friends,  if  it  were  realized,  could  there  be 
so  much  abject  neod  among  us ;  so  much 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     229 


stony-hearted  selfishness ;  so  much  shuffling  in 
trade,  and  corruption  in  politics,  and  meanness 
in  intercourse,  and  foolish  superficial  living? 
I  know,  and  you  know,  that  one  of  the  great 
est  evils  is — not  merely  that  men  are  worldly, 
irreligious,  bound  up  in  sad  conditions  and 
narrow  conceits  ;  but  that  they  are  so,  because 
they  do  not  apprehend  the  nature  and  do  not 
feel  the  reality  of  religion.  For  I  say  once 
more,  that  a  conviction  of  its  reality  must  be 
a  great  help  in  adjusting  the  problems  of  life. 
And  this,  because  it  acts  upon  the  centre  of 
all  the  sin,  and  much  of  the  suffering  of  the 
world.  This  personal  application  of  religion 
stands  before  all  other  remedies  for  the  re 
moval  of  these  evils.  Others  are  attempted — 
others  are,  in  a  degree,  successful;  but  none 
go  so  deep  and  produce  results  so  sure.  It 
seems  to  me  that  the  position  of  humanity  in 
this  respect,  is  illustrated  in  the  narrative  of 
the  Demoniac  of  Gadara.  We  are  told  that 
he  had  been  bound  with  chains,  but  in  his 
fierce  madness  had  burst  them  asunder.  And 
then,  again,  men  had  tried  various  expedients, 
but  thev  could  not  tame  him.  But  when  the 


230      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


influence  of  Jesus  fell  upon  his  soul,  it  took 
hold  of  it  with  sweet  authority;  the  legion 
left  him,  and  the  poor,  wounded,  houseless 
man  sat  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind.  So  is 
it  with  man  in  society  ;  so  is  it  with  some  of 
these  social  evils.  The  power  of  law  has  been 
invoked ;  and  it  has  its  legitimate  sphere  of 
operation.  It  checks  the  purposed  violence. 
It  arrests  the  overt  act.  It  may  consistently 
be  summoned  to  purify  all  those  channels 
of  social  action  which  it  assumes  to  regu 
late  ;  and,  instead  of  patronizing  the  wrong, 
to  set  its  face  and  hand  against  it.  Thus  it 
may  prevent  public  harm,  though  it  cannot 
stop  self-injury,  and  remove  occasions  of  temp 
tation,  though  it  cannot  impart  moral  strength. 
It  has  no  efficacy  to  change  the  assassin's  heart, 
yet  we  call  upon  it  to  guard  us  against  murder. 
"We  bid  it  close  the  den  of  infamy,  though  it 
does  not  quench  guilty  passion.  And  we  may 
use  it  to  stop  the  sale  of  intoxicating  drinks, 
though  it  does  not  destroy  the  drunkard's  ap 
petite.  And  this  indicates  both  the  function 
and  the  limitation  of  the  law.  Thrown  over 
the  wild  forces  that  rage  in  the  human  heart, 


THE    HELP    OF    KELIGION.     231 


and  that  afflict  community,  it  is  like  the  fet 
ters  on  the  limbs  of  the  demoniac.  It  may 
restrain  for  a  time ;  but  in  some  sweep  of  temp 
tation  it  is  spurned  and  snapped  asunder. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  have  the  expedients  of 
the  reformer.  He  comes  with  props  and  pal 
liatives;  soothing  some  cutaneous  irritation, 
or  removing  some  foul  condition.  And  let  us 
recognize  the  legitimacy  of  his  endeavor.  We 
must  approach  the  human  heart  through  the 
web  of  its  external  circumstances,  as  well  as 
directly.  Nay,  often  this  is  the  only  way  by 
which  we  can  get  at  it  at  all.  And  well  may 
we  rejoice  over  the  rescue  from  specific  vices, 
and  commend  the  zeal  and  patience  which  fas 
ten  upon  some  colossal  evil  to  batter  and  drive 
it  from  the  world.  But  notwithstanding  such 
noble  achievement,  how  many  have  remained 
among  the  tombs,  or  gone  back  to  the  wilder 
ness — demoniacs  still !  It  is  an  old  truth,  but 
I  say  it  as  though  it  were  in  the  conviction  of 
a  fresh  fact  forced  upon  me  by  these  great 
problems  that  heave  up  in  the  currents  of  City 
Life  ;  it  is  an  unavoidable  conclusion  that  there 
is  only  one  influence  that  can  make  safe,  and 


232      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


pure,  and  strong  in  goodness,  those  recesses  out 
of  which  issue  so  much  social  evil,  and  so  much 
personal  suffering.  And  that  is  the  influence 
not  of  the  law-giver,  nor  of  the  reformer;  but 
of  the  Kedeemer.  It  is  that  power  which 
flows  through  the  soul  in  a  practical  convic 
tion  of  the  reality  of  religion.  It  is  the  help 
which  comes  from  its  inspiration  of  divine 
truth  and  goodness  in  the  breasts  of  individual 
men,  turning  them  from  evil,  rendering  them 
strong  against  temptation,  and  sending  out 
from  their  lives  fresh  forces  of  righteousness 
and  love.  ^^" 

Indeed,  I  believe  that  any  man  who  really 
thinks  and  feels,  and  who  has  much  experience 
of  Life,  will  become  convinced  of  the  necessity 
of  Religion.  I  would  leave  its  claims  not  to 
the  argument  of  the  Moralist,  or  the  advocacy 
of  the  Pulpit,  but  as  they  urge  themselves 
upon  us  here  out  of  the  whirl,  and  weariness, 
and  vicissitudes  of  the  City.  Surely,  as  its 
calm  voice  appeals  to  the  sons  of  men,  striv 
ing  in  this  heated  atmosphere ;  chasing  phan 
toms  that  rise  out  of  the  dust ;  absorbed  in  the 
fickle  game  of  fortune  ;  borne  along  for  a  little 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     233 


while  on  the  top-waves  of  excitement,  and 
then  dying  unmarked  as  a  rain-drop  that  falls 
into  the  sea ;  surely  as  its  voice  appeals  to 
these,  saying — "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest !"  it  strikes  the  deepest  chords  in  thou 
sands  of  hearts.  I  will  not  adopt  now  any 
professional  argument  to  prove  the  great 
necessity  of  Religion  as  a  Help  in  Life.  But 
I  would  take  my  stand,  in  imagination,  at 
some  corner  of  yonder  tumultuous  street. 
How  multiform  the  crowds  that  sweep  by  me ; 
how  diverse  the  faces ;  what  a  kaleidoscope 
of  human  conditions !  And  yet,  when  you 
attempt  to  classify  them,  how  few  are  the 
actual  types  of  men — how  many  fall  into  a  com 
mon  group ;  and  when  you  try  them  by  the 
profoundest  standard — that  of  a  common  expe 
rience  and  common  wants — how  marvellously 
alike  they  all  are !  How  similar  in  inward 
expression,  the  rich  man  who  wralks  yonder, 
to  that  poor  drudging  son  of  toil,  who  bows 
his  back  and  strains  his  sinews  until  they  ache ! 
How  similar  in  effect  the  burdens  which  they 
both  bear — the  burden  of  wealth,  and  the 


234:     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


burden  of  poverty,  in  the  fact  that  they  are 
burdens  upon  the  heart  and  the  soul !  And 
are  they  not  both  struggling  with  the  realities 
of  life,  and  moved  by  quenchless  desires,  and 
looking  up  into  the  same  infinite  mystery  ? 
Ah!  my  friends,  I  hardly  think  it  would  be 
the  most  effectual  way  to  preach  Religion  in 
this  church  on  Sunday,  as  a  matter  of  course — 
but  to  stand  out  there  on  week-days,  and 
strike  the  deepest  chords  throbbing  uncon 
sciously  in  the  bosoms  of  those  who  pass  me  by. 
I  would  appeal  to  you,  O  disappointed, 
almost  heart-broken  man,  who  for  years  have 
endeavored  to  earn  a  competency  to  lift  your 
head  above  the  sheer  necessities  of  life,  but 
have  failed  in  the  chase,  and  been  beaten 
back,  and  seen  others  who  have  exerted  them 
selves  not  near  as  much,  not  so  honorably,  per 
haps,  rise  to  the  very  top  of  the  stream  and 
sail  clear  ahead ; — or  to  you,  O  "  favorite  of 
fortune,"  as  the  world  calls  you,  who  find  your 
palace  to  be  only  a  stately  sepulchre,  in  which 
all  genuine  feeling  and  simple  enjoyment  lies 
dead  and  wrapped  in  cerements  of  chilling 
etiquette — whose  daughter,  perhaps,  has 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     235 


mocked  your  fondest  plans  ;  or  whose  son  has 
turned  out  a  miserable  weed  of  dissipation — a 
degenerate  fopling,  a  rake,  a  fool ; — or  to  you, 
O  butterfly  of  fashion,  sailing  with  embroider 
ed  wings  in  search  of  admiration  and  of  pleas 
ure  ;  or  still  again,  to  you  who  have  just  ga 
thered  together  the  means  of  enjoyment,  and 
ease,  and  everything,  to  make  life  pleasant, 
and  lo !  death  has  entered,  and  your  hopes  are 
darkened  and  in  the  dust;  I  appeal  to  you, 
O  types  of  this  streaming  humanity,  that  wears 
so  many  masks,  yet,  carries  under  all  a  com 
mon  heart ;  and  ask  you,  if  there  is  not  some 
void  that  no  earthly  good  can  fill — that  no 
finite  thing  can  sustain  and  satisfy  ?  Can  you 
go  on  with  the  common  business  of  the  world, 
discharge  all  its  obligations,  control  yourself 
in  its  excitements,  resist  its  evil  solicitations, 
bear  up  under  its  trials,  and,  finally,  reach 
that  period  in  life  when  you  must  ask— "  What 
is  all  this  worth? — these  years  of  toil,  these 
eager  enterprises,  this  golden  accumulation  or 
unfortunate  failure — what  are  they  all  worth, 
and  what  do  they  mean  ?" — can  anybody  well 
get  along  with  all  this,  without  Religion? 


236      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


My  friends,  I  say  to  you  that,  not  consciously, 
perhaps,  like  the  old  saints  who  wrought  and 
prayed  and  walked  with  upward-looking  faces 
—but  really,  in  the  deep  yearning  and  the 
secret  gravitation  of  the  soul — you  do  confess 
that  here  we  have  no  continuing  city,  and  you 
are  seeking  one  to  come.  At  least,  it  seems  to 
me  that  without  the  Help  of  Religion,  there  is 
only  the  alternative  of  moral  indifference — • 
a  cold,  hard  worldliness,  or  of  recklessness 
and  spiritual  despair.  And  is  not  this  the 
alternative  which  is  exhibited  in  the  midst  of 
all  our  civilization — in  the  midst  of  this  gor 
geous  materialism  of  the  nineteenth  century  ? 
Thousands,  it  is  to  be  apprehended,  do  exhibit 
one  or  the  other  of  those  extremes  which  the 
poet  has  so  well  described : 


<:  For  most  men  in  a  brazen  prison  live, 
Where,  in  the  sun's  hot  eye, 
With  heads  bent  o'er  their  toil,  they  languidly 
Their  minds  to  some  unmeaning  task-work  give, 
Dreaming  of  naught  beyond  their  prison  wall  ; 

And  so,  year  after  year, 
Fresh  products  of  their  barren  labor  fall 
From  their  tired  hands,  and  rest 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     237 


Never  yet  comes  more  near. 

Gloom  settles  slowly  down  over  their  breast, 
And  while  they  try  to  stem 

The  waves  of  mournful  thought  by  which  they  are 

prest. 
Death  in  their  prison  reaches  them 

Unfreed,  having  seen  nothing,  still  unblest. 

'  And  the  rest,  a  few, 

Escape  their  prison,  and  depart 
On  the  wide  ocean  of  life  anew. 

There  the  freed  prisoner,  where'er  his  heart 
Listeth,  will  sail  ; 

Nor  does  he  know  how  there  prevail 
Despotic  on  life?s  sea, 
Trade-winds  that  cross  it  from  eternity. 
Awhile  he  holds  some  false  way,  undebarred 
By  thwarting  signs,  and  braves 
The  freshening  wind,  and  blackening  waves, 
And  then  the  tempest  strikes  him,  and  between 
The  lightning  bursts  is  seen 
Only  a  driving  wreck, 
And  the  pale  master  on  his  spar-strewn  deck 
With  anguished  face  and  flying  hair, 

Grasping  the  rudder  hard, 

Still  bent  to  make  some  port  he  knows  not  where, 
Still  standing  for  some  false  impossible  shore, 
And  sterner  comes  the  roar 

Of  sea  and  wind,  and  through  the  deepening  gloom, 
Fainter  and  fainter  wreck  and  helmsman  loom." 


238      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


But,  before  I  quit  this  head  of  my  discourse, 
let  me  say  that  in  order  to  be  accepted  as  the 
great  Help  of  Life,  Religion  must  in  some 
way  ^presented  as  a  reality.  It  must  not  be 
held  forth  as  a  mere  abstraction — it  must  be 
precipitated  into  its  concrete  relations.  Part 
ing  with  none  of  its  sanctity,  it  must  be 
stripped  of  its  vagueness  and  technicality,  and 
be  spoken  in  the  fresh  language  of  the  time. 
I  feel  sure  that  amidst  prevalent  irreligion, 
nothing  is  so  much  needed  as  a  definite  state 
ment  of  what  religion  is ;  and  that  men  should 
learn  to  recognize  its  vascular  connection  with 
every  department  of  action.  It  must  be  un 
derstood  that  "  being  religious"  is  not  a  work 
apart  by  itself,  but  a  spirit  of  faith  and  righ 
teousness,  flowing  out  from  the  centre  of  a 
regenerated  heart  into  all  the  employments 
and  intercourse  of  the  world.  Not  merely  the 
preacher  in  the  pulpit,  and  the  saint  on  his 
knees,  may  do  the  work  of  religion,  but  the 
mechanic  who  smites  with  the  hammer  and 
drives  the  wheel :  the  artist  seeking  to  realize 
his  pure  ideal  of  the  beautiful ;  the  mother  in 
the  gentle  offices  of  home^,  the  statesman  in 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     239 


the  forlorn-hope  of  liberty  and  justice ;  and 
the  philosopher  whose  thought  treads  reverent 
ly  among  the  splendid  mysteries  of  the  uni 
verse.  I  know  that  some  will  deem  this  a 
secularization  of  religion — a  desecration  of  its 
holy  essence  by  worldly  alliances.  But  they 
are  mistaken.  It  is  a  consecration  of  pursuits 
and  spheres  that  have  been  cut  off  from  all 
sacredness,  and  devoted  to  secondary  ends. 
Are  not  the  just,  the  useful,  the  beautiful,  from 
God,  as  well  as  the  good  and  the  holy?  And, 
therefore,  is  not  any  practice  which  serves 
these,  a  service  of  God?  It  is  needed  that 
men  should  feel  that  every  lawful  pursuit  is 
sacred  and  not  profane  ;  that  every  position  in 
life  is  close  to  the  steps  of  the  divine  throne  ; 
and  that  the  most  beaten  and  familiar  paths 
lie  under  the  awful  shadow  of  the  Infinite  ; 
then  they  will  go  about  their  daily  pursuits, 
and  fill  their  common  relationships,  with 
hearts  of  worship  and  pulses  of  unselfish  love ; 
instead  of  regarding  religion  as  an  isolated 
peculiarity  for  a  corner  of  the  closet  and  a 
fraction  of  the  week,  and  leaving  all  the  rest 
of  time  and  space  an  unconsecrated  waste, 


240     HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


where  lawless  passions  travel,  and  selfishness 
pitches  its  tents.  O  !  if  religion  were  thus  a 
diffusive,  practical,  every-day  reality,  there 
would  be  a  marvellous  change  in  the  aspects 
of  life  and  the  conditions  of  humanity  around 
us.  The  great  city,  now  so  gross  and  profane, 
would  become  as  a  vast  cathedral,  through 
whose  stony  aisles  would  flow  perpetual  ser 
vice  ;  where  labor  would  discharge  its  daily 
offices,  and  faith  and  patience  keep  their 
heavenward  look,  and  love  present  its  offer 
ings.  Yea,  the  very  roll  of  wheels  through  its 
busy  streets  would  be  as  a  litany,  and  the 
sound  of  homeward  feet  the  chant  of  its  even 
ing  psalm. 

But  religion  is  not  only  a  help  in  and  foi 
ourselves ;  it  has  a  ministration  for  others — 
for  this  great  mass  of  destitution  and  suffering 
that  broods  in  the  midst  of  the  city.  Christi 
anity  is  not  merely  a  theory  of  existence — it  is 
a  working-power.  Its  precepts  are  practical, 
and  enjoin  not  merely  states  of  mind  and 
heart,  but  conditions  of  activity.  There  is  an 
entire  magazine  of  working-forces  in  that  one 
great  law — "Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 


THE     HELP    OF    R E L i  G i o N .     241 


Hear  the  words  of  an  apostolical  commentator 
upon  it.  "  If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked,  and 
destitute  of  daily  food,"  says  he,  "  and  one  of 
you  say  unto  them,  Depart  in  peace,  be  ye 
warmed  and  filled;  notwithstanding  ye  give 
them  not  those  things  which  are  needful  to  the 
body ;  what  doth  it  profit  ?  Even  so  faith,  if 
it  hath  not  works,  is  dead,  being  alone."  And 
wherever  Christianity  has  existed  and  been 
apprehended,  it  has  produced  beneficent  re 
sults  for  humanity.  It  has  gone  over  the 
earth  like  its  Divine  Author,  with  healing  and 
with  help  for  the  woes  of  the  race.  Anybody 
who  takes  his  stand  at  the  head- waters  of 
modern  history,  will  see  that  a  mighty  energy 
was  then  poured  into  the  world,  whose  influ 
ence  is  evident  in  the  truest  civilization,  in 
the  best  results,  of  ages.  In  estimating  the 
practical  power  of  Christianity,  we  must  look 
at  the  positive  phase  of  things — we  must  con 
sider  what  has  actually  been  done  ;  not  mere 
ly  what  remains  to  be  done.  We  must  adopt 
proportionate  standards,  not  the  little  measures 
of  to-day  and  yesterday,  in  which  the  tides  of 
human  melioration  may  oscillate,  and  even 
11 


242      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


seem  to  flow  backward  and  at  the  best  to 
make  slight  headway.  But  take  up  the  cycle 
of  history  that  preceded  the  advent  of  Christi 
anity,  and  compare  it  with  the  present  period ; 
and  is  there  not  an  entirely  different  expression 
on  the  face  of  things,  so  far  as  conceptions  of 
humanity  and  influences  of  philanthropy 
are  concerned?  Contrast  aa  Roman  holiday," 
its  butchery  and  its  blood,  with  a  modern  anni 
versary  that  clasps  the  round  world  in  its 
jubilee,  and  see  if  humanity  has  not  been 
helped  by  religion.  Or  look  back  upon  Gre 
cian  art  and  refinement,  and  tell  me  what 
oration  or  poem,  or  pantheon  of  marble  beauty, 
is  half  as  glorious  as  the  plain  brick  free 
school ;  the  asylum  of  industry  ;  the  home  for 
the  penitent,  the  disabled  and  the  poor  ?  Ah ! 
my  friends,  these  are  such  familiar  things  that 
we  may  not  think  them  the  great  things 
they  really  are ;  and  in  gazing  upon  the 
colossal  evils  that  yet  tower  up  before  us,  they 
may  seem  slight  achievements.  But  they  are 
great:  and  when  I  see  the  poor  drunkard 
return  to  a  renovated  home — the  demoniac 
sitting  clothed  and  in  his  right  mind  once 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     243 


more ;  when  I  see  the  dumb  write,  and  hear 
the  blind  read,  and  little  rescued  children 
sing  their  thankful  hymns  ;  I  think  humanity 
has  been  helped  a  great  deal  since  that  Divine 
Teacher  walked  the  earth,  and  took  the  lambs 
to  his  bosom,  and  made  the  foul  leper  clean, 
and  partook  with  publicans  and  sinners,  and 
bade  the  guilty  go  and  sin  no  more.  I  think 
that  currents  of  love  and  self-sacrifice,  from 
that  heart  that  was  pierced  for  us  upon  the 
cross,  have  found  their  way  through  the  chan 
nels  of  ages,  through  all  the  impediments  of 
woiidliness  and  selfishness,  and  inspired  and 
blessed  men  far  more  than  they  know. 

But  if,  turning  from  the  positive  achieve 
ment,  you  point  to  the  evils  that  still  exist — 
if  you  lift  the  coverings  of  respectability  and 
custom,  from  the  ghastly  facts  that  are  em 
bedded  here  in  our  so-called  civilization ;  if 
you  bid  me  mark  the  vice,  the  poverty,  the 
crime,  the  oppression,  the  grinding  monopoly, 
the  prejudice,  the  gigantic,  materialism  and 
practical  atheism  that  are  mixed  up  with  it, 
and  seem  to  be  inseparable  parts  of  it ;  then  I 
ask  you — how  would  it  be  without  the  Help 


244      HUMANITY   IN   THE   CITY, 


of  Keligion  ?  What  interpretation  should  we 
obtain  from  the  dark  creed  of  the  skeptic,  what 
inspiration  from  the  philosophy  of  annihila 
tion,  and  of  fate?  To  say  nothing  of  those 
forces  of  Love  and  self-sacrifice  which  it  sheds 
abroad  in  the  world,  and  to  which  I  have  just 
alluded,' — Religion,  in  one  single  proposition, 
sends  pregnant  elements  of  direction  and 
relief  into  the  midst  of  these  giant  evils. 
That  one  proposition  is  the  immortality  of 
man — the  priceless  spirituality  of  every  man 
— the  ascription  of  a  nature  more  glorious 
and  imperishable  than  a  star.  Here  is  the 
spring  of  its  perpetual  antagonism  to  the 
world,  and  to  the  evil  of  the  world.  The 
latter  bases  its  estimate  of  man  upon  outward 
conditions ;  estimates  his  name  and  his  title, 
his  equipage  and  his  parentage,  the  bulk  of 
his  gold,  the  color  of  his  skin,  his  apparent  suc 
cess  or  defeat.  Christianity  points  to  that 
vivid  centre  of  a  soul,  in  whose  light  all  these 
external  distinctions  fade,  are  fused  into  dross, 
become  comparatively  naught.  All  the  evil 
of  the  world  stands  upon  the  assumption  of 
the  former  rule — upon  the  ground  of  external 


THE    HELP    OF    EELIGION.     245 


and  material  valuation — which,  as  has  been 
well  observed  by  another,  is  a  "  method  of 
studying,  the  problems  of  the  universe  by 
fetching  rules  from  the  wider  sphere  (there 
fore  the  lower]  to  import  into  the  higher.  .  . 
So  long  as  this  logical  strategy  is 
allowed,  the  Titans  will  always  conquer  the 
gods ;  the  ground-forces  of  the  lowest  nature 
will  propagate  themselves,  pulse  after  pulse, 
from  the  abysses  to  the  skies,  and  right  will 
exist  only  on  sufferance  from  might"  On  the 
other  hand,  I  say,  Eeligion,  Christianity, 
starts  from  the  centre  outward — starts  with  the 
dignity  and  sanctity  of  the  human  soul — and 
in  this  is  the  great  element  of  all  progress  and 
reform.  Out  of  this  have  sprung  the  achieve 
ments  of  modern  freedom.  Assuming  this 
inward  birthright  of  every  man,  men  have 
snapped  feudal  fetters,  and  broken  the  seals 
of  ancient  proscription,  and  torn  up  branching 
genealogies,  and  trodden  diadems  in  the  dust. 
It  was  this  fact  that  inspired  Sidney's  speech, 
and  Hampden's  effort,  and  Washington's  calm 
determination.  It  is  this  that  erects  itself 
against  majorities,  policies,  institutions,  chart- 


246      HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


ers,  and  will  not  be  beaten  down,  and  will 
agitate,  and  will  triumph.  It  is  this  that  sends 
philanthropy  npon  its  mission  ;  and  bids  it 
stoop  to  the  most  fallen,  and  search  under  the 
darkest  depravity.  "  Go  abroad,"  it  says, 
"  amidst  the  guilt  and  misery  of  the  great 
city.  In  the  rags,  the  filth,  the  abomination, 
there  are  jewreis  fallen  from  heaven.  There 
are  souls  upon  which  angels  look  with  solici 
tude.  There  are  interests  for  which  Christ 
died.  Search  patiently,  and  deeply,  and  never 
give  up  the  endeavor  to  find,  to  lift  up,  to 
restore."  Is  not  all  the  spring  of  benevolent 
effort,  then,  in  this  single  proposition  of  Ke- 
ligion  ?  This  one  great  Truth  it  utters  amidst 
the  suffering  and  injustice  of  the  world — that 
men  are  heirs  of  one  inheritance ;  possessors 
of  a  birthright  by  virtue  of  which  all  outward 
inequalities  fade  away.  It  bases  a  demand 
for  mutual  help  and  love,  upon  the  fact  that 
we  are  all  on  a  pilgrimage — high,  low,  honored, 
degraded,  master,  slave,  we  go  forth  together, 
and  these  earthly  distinctions  all  drop  away. 
Rich  man  with  rows  of  real-estate,  with  money 
safe  in  bank,  with  solid  securities  walled 


T  H  E       II  K  L  P      O  F      R  K  L  I  G  I  O  N  .       247 


around  you — you  will  carry  no  more  away 
than  Lazarus  yonder — in  God's  eyes  you  are 
no  richer  than  he.  Because  here  we  have  no 
continuing  city.  The  destinies  of  our  com 
mon  humanity  now  forward  into  another  and 
more  enduring  one. 

And,  if  still  this  problem  of  human  degrada 
tion  and  suffering  presses  upon  us,  I  say 
further,  that  where  the  constituents  of  this 
problem  are  most  prominent,  there  religion  is 
the  most  active.  The  heaviest  poverty  is 
belted  about  by  the  brightest  charities ;  the 
hot-beds  of  crime  generate  the  most  radical 
efforts  for  its  prevention  and  its  cure ;  and 
while  oppression  is  at  work,  setting  its  dark 
types  upon  virgin  soil  to  print  off  its  own 
shame  and  condemnation,  indignant  voices 
expose  it  and  indignant  hearts  react  against  it. 
And  more  and  more,  every  day,  it  is  felt  and 
proclaimed  that  religion  is  a  working-principle 
— a  practical  power.  JSTever  was  it  more  pro 
foundly  felt  than  in  this  very  age  that  men 
must  be  confessors  of  Christianity  as  well  as 
professors.  And  in  the  light  of  this  concep 
tion,  proffering  fresh  and  willing .  help,  Keli- 


248      HUMANITY    IN   THE    CITY. 


gion  walks  abroad ;  and  lo !  waste  places 
grow  verdant,  and  the  strongholds  of  guilt 
and  misery  sink  down,  and  blessed  institutions 
rise  up,  and  industry  takes  the  place  of  crime, 
and  cursings  are  exchanged  for  songs,  and  the 
poorest  sees  the  immortal  light,  and  is  lifted 
up  by  the  grand  thought — that  "here  have 
we  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek  one  to 
come." 

We  have  thus  seen  that  Religion  is  a  Help 
as  to  the  fact  of  sin,  when  men  are  convinced 
of  it  as  a  great  reality ;  and  a  help  as  to  the 
fact  of  human  suffering,  because  it  is  a  work 
ing-power.  But,  over  and  above  all  this,  there 
are  problems  that  perplex  us,  and  demand 
some  answer ;  problems  as  to  the  How,  and 
the  "Wherefore,  and  the  End.  There  are  times 
when  our  thoughts  rise  above  all  specific  in 
stances,  and  we  take  up  humanity  and  exist 
ence  as  a  whole,  and  ask — "  What  means  it 
all  ?"  Sometimes  this  question  starts  out  of  an 
individual  experience.  The  shock  of  affliction 
has  jarred  our  hearts ;  our  expectations  have 
come  to  naught ;  bereavement  has  broken  up 
the  routine  of  our  life  ;  or  our  own  souls  have 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     249 


surprised  us  with  sudden  revelations.  At  any 
rate,  we  find  our  being  here  involved  with 
mystery.  There  is  something  that  our  under 
standing  cannot  entirely  grasp ;  something 
that  our  unassisted  eyes  cannot  see.  And  the  "*  / 
only  help  for  us  in  such  a  case  is  the  Help  of 
Religion,  presenting  us,  through  faith,  with  an 
interpretation  of  human  life — an  interpreta 
tion  which  tells  us  that  what  we  now  expe 
rience  and  behold  is  only  transitional,  prelimi 
nary,  and  that  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly, 
and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be. 

And  is  it  necessary  for  me  to  dwell  upon 
the  strength  which  has  thus  been  imparted  to 
sad  and  wounded  spirits,  when  with  perfect 
trust  in  Infinite  Goodness  they  have  thus  real 
ized  that  they  stand  only  on  one  round  of  an 
upward  course — only  in  a  little  segment  'of  the 
immense  plan?  I  will  merely  say  now,  that  if, 
through  faith,  religion  is  a  help  to  these  by 
interpreting  life  in  harmony  with  individual 
experience,  so  through  this  faith  does  It  help 
the  meditative  man  troubled  by  the  general 
problem  of  existence  and  humanity.  The  ] 
meaning  of  these  various  conditions  in  the 
11* 


250    HUMANITY    IN    THE    CITY. 


city — the  meaning  of  these  sins,  and  sorrows, 
and  inequalities — the  meaning  of  this  tide  of 
life  itself  that  rolls  in  endless  succession 
through  these  -  stony  arteries — does  it  perplex 
you  ?  Accept,  then,  the  help  which  religion 
gives  by  interpreting  it  as  only  preliminary 
and  transitional;  only  a  portion  of  a  wider 
scheme. 

We  commenced  this  series  of  discourses  by 
standing,  as  it  were,  in  the  street,  on  a  level 
with  all  these  phases  of  humanity.  Ascend 
now  some  lofty  post  of  observation;  some 
high  watch-tower.  The  mottled  tide  flows 
and  dashes  far  below  you.  The  sounds  of 
strife  and  endeavor  rise  faintly  to  your  ears, 
and  are  drowned  in  the  upper  air.  So  in  the 
altitude  and  comprehensiveness  of  faith,  all 
this  that  seemed  so  huge  and  startling  dwindles 
to  a  little  stream  in  the  great  ocean  of  exist 
ence,  and  all  these  tumults  are  swallowed  up 
in  the  currents  of  silent  but  beneficent  design. 
But,  in  the  meantime,  the  daylight  has  gone, 
the  night-shadow  has  fallen,  this  stream  of 
human  life  has  ebbed  away,  and  all  these 
sounds  are  still.  See,  now,  how  much  of  your 


THE    HELP    OF    RELIGION.     251 


perplexity  came  from  a  deceit  of  eye-sight — 
see  how  the  light  of  this  world  blinded  you  to 
the  immensity  and  the  meaning  of  existence ! 
See  !  over  your  head  spreads  the  great  firma 
ment.  There  are  Sirius,  and  Orion,  and  the 
glittering  Pleiades.  How  harmoniously  they 
are  related ;  how  calmly  they  roll !  And  now, 
O  man !  fresh  from  the  reeking  dust,  and  the 
cry  of  pained  hearts,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
grave,  do  not  the  scales  of  unbelief  drop  from 
your  eyes,  when  you  see  the  width  of  God's 
universe,  and  feel  that  His  purpose  girdles 
this  little  planet  and  steers  its  freight  of  souls  ? 
You  were  deceived  by  your  standards  of 
greatness  and  duration.  You  thought  that 
this  material  city,  with  what  it  contains,  was 
everything.  But  they  have  cherished  the 
true  view,  who  in  the  spirit  of  the  text  have 
interpreted  these  Conditions  of  Humanity — 
the  conditions  of  those  who  seek  and  sin  and 
suffer  in  the  busy  crowd ;  of  those  who  rest 
beneath  yonder  gleaming  tomb-stones.  And, 
as  we  read  what  all  wise  and  good  men  have 
virtually  said,  our  mortal  term  contracts,  our 
immortal  career  opens,  our  years  seem  as  ticks 


252         H  U  M  A  N  I  T  Y      I  N      T  H  E      C  I  T  Y 


of  a  clock,  and  the  entire  sum  of  our  life  but  a 
minute-mark  on  the  dial  of  eternity ;  and  this 
huge  metropolis  becomes  a  dim  veil,  a  perish 
able  symbol  of  real  and  enduring  things. 


THE     END. 


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